To Rescue A Trickster God
by ItsMadness
Summary: Post-Avengers. Thor returns to Asgard with Loki in tow, forced to face the consequences of his actions on Midgard. But the Allfather keeps his son's state from both his wife, Frigga, and Thor. Filled with unease and fear for her wayward son, the Queen plots with the God of Thunder to do something that is most unwise- Rescue Loki. Dark AU, no slash, warnings inside.
1. Prologue

**DISCLAIMER:**** I do not own Thor, the Avengers, or any of the characters. I'd like to think only the plot itself belongs to me, though even that is heavily influenced by the movies and comics themselves. Only thing I own is the television I used to watch the movies.**

**WARNINGS:**** This story does include torture, of the emotional and physical kind (nothing sexual). Those of you with weak stomachs might wish to avoid reading. But I **_**will**_** state before each chapter if there is anything **_**overly**_** traumatic about the contents. But I advise you to hit the back-button if you are unsure. ****No slash, just some brotherly bonding. **

**So, to summarize: Torture, Angst, Trauma, Cursing, Loki!whump, gore, blood, violence, and possible sensitive issues. Snarkiness if I can pull it off successfully. Does not contain any sexual content. **

**If you disagree with any of the above, then I suggest that you find another story. Flames will be used to cook bacon. For Thor, of course.**

**Enjoy!**

**Warnings For This Chapter: Frigga angst? Otherwise, nothing, really. **

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

* * *

_Frigga was afraid._

_No, afraid was too loose a term to describe her anxiety. The Queen of Asgard, for all of her apparent coolness and regality, was utterly terrified. In the relative safety of her and her husband's chambers, she could lower her mask enough to acknowledge the fact that the constricting sensation in her heart was fear- a terrible feeling she had only felt a few times in her long,_ long _existence. _

_Of course, fear itself was no stranger to the wife of Odin. Every time her eldest son went on one of his "mighty quests" and adventures in other realms, she felt fear. Fear for her son's well being. Fear that he would return injured, or not at all. But she had faith in her boy- his strength in battle went unmatched, and his determination and loyalty only aided that strength. Oh, she was very proud of her oldest son._

_But other times, Frigga felt fear. Her youngest- though not by blood- was always a frequent cause of anxiety for the Queen. His penchant for mischief and chaos, and the consequences that came with it, never failed to set her heart pounding in concern. And his magic..._

_Frigga was not one to shun the importance of magic. It had just as much use as brute force and strength on the battlefield, though many in Asgard considered it to be a coward's art. Her youngest son's aptitude and power when it came to sorcery was a source of pride and fear for her. _

_Loki had always thrown himself into studying anything that related to magic, both the theory and practical aspects. More than once a section of the palace would be set on fire, flooded, blasted apart, and often times completely inaccessible for weeks at a time. It was enough to give her a headache. _

_And always...always her boy was shamelessly ridiculed and punished for his dedication to the art. Teased mercilessly for his lesser skills in battle. For his desire to read than spar in the courtyard. For his smaller size, in relation to his brother. For his sharp tongue and unrivaled wit. For being_ different._ It tore Frigga apart, to watch how Loki hurt more and more with every passing year. _

_But eventually, he stopped showing it. Held a mask so perfectly in place that even his mother could scarcely discern what was hiding underneath. His emotions, buried carefully under a layer of apathy, his sharp eyes and even sharper tongue doing nothing to betray what her son was_ really_ hiding underneath. Only the briefest moments, where his careful mask would slip unknowingly, could she see how her boy was still hurting inside._

_It was enough to break the mother's heart._

_For she has_ always_ been his mother-though the blood in his veins bore no connection to her or her husband. _

_And as his mother, Frigga was once again terrified. As seemed to be the case, more frequently of late. She had been horrified, hearing of Loki's destructive behavior on Midgard. Terrified, that one or both of her sons would meet their final fate, doing battle with one another in that realm. The thought of the Tesseract reaching the hands of the Chitauri barely even concerned her, in the face of her overwhelming fear for her sons. And then...when Thor returned, carrying the Tesseract and her wayward son..._

_Oh, Frigga had been delighted. Her boys were _here,_ back home again! She had embraced her eldest, whispering how proud she was of the man he had become, how indebted she felt, for bringing her other son back- alive. Thor had looked bashful at the praise, as she knew he would, but she could see the glow of pride that he hadn't been able to fully conceal. _

_Odin had clasped Thor on the shoulders. Giving his own words of praise, for doing what had seemed utterly impossible. And while her husband drew their oldest son aside, she couldn't help but glance at the impassive face of her youngest._

_The metal gag made her cringe internally, though she hid it well. The metal bindings on his wrists glowed very slightly, enchanted as they were. Though much magic required a verbal command, thus the gag, she knew the cuffs were needed to contain the rest of Loki's raw power. No doubt much more volatile, in the rage he hid so well. And oh, how he was seething with it. Her son's green eyes that she had always admired were cast to the floor, his expression smooth with an air of guilt. But she could _feel _his anger. Like a physical force, writhing around him in tendrils of fury. She knew the binds couldn't be helping any- no doubt they must have made Loki even more angered, being bound like a criminal. _Well... _she had mused at the time. _At least he can be content with the knowledge that he is far more dangerous than any of the other criminals those shackles have held.

_While Odin and Thor had been distracted, she had stepped up to her bound son, as tall as Thor but less powerfully built. She had hesitantly placed a hand on his cheek, watching as his eyes narrowed. She could almost imagine him hissing under his breath,_ "Sentiment."_ as if the word was a filthy curse. Withholding a sigh, she embraced him gently, pretending not to notice his muscles flinch away from her._

_Though she had known he could not reply, she had murmured gently by his ear, _"I missed you, my dear son_." The unspoken 'I'm glad you're safe,' seemed to hover in the air after her statement._

_He had taken a step back, eyes cold as ice as he watched her arms fall from around him. She knew he was angry, perhaps irrationally so, but the look still hurt her._

_A glance towards her husband showed him returning to her side, with Thor in tow. Frigga had willed herself not to grow upset, seeing the way her husband's visible eye gazed coldly at their adopted son. She knew Odin had every right to be angry with him, but it still hurt her to see how little compassion he had in his eye, trained upon their shackled and gagged boy._

_Without a word towards Loki, Odin turned away, summoning several guards with the orders to escort 'the prisoner' to his old rooms. The words stung Frigga, though she hid her reaction well, telling herself with little conviction _At least he isn't in a dungeon cell... _Yet, she refused to add. _

_She watched her son 'escorted'- _dragged- _to his bedchambers, Thor remaining behind though his eyes followed his brother until he was out of sight. Odin took one of his wife's hands in his own, a small gesture she supposed was one of comfort. But now, with Loki gone, she only felt numb. _

_Thor handed his father the Tesseract, giving a respectful bow to them both as he excused himself to presumably rinse away the grime and dust covering his clothes and body. She couldn't blame him, and no doubt he would seek out a healer for injuries he might possess. She_ hoped _he would, at least. But her eldest son could at times be just as infuriatingly stubborn as her husband, when it came to caring for himself. _

_As Thor left, she rested her head against her husband's arm, sighing inwardly. Already she felt exhausted-the constant fearing for her son's had certainly done the Queen no favors. Odin kissed her cheek- for all of his power and sternness, her husband was always gentle with her- and suggested that she return to their chambers to rest. He still had much work to do. So with a defeated nod, the Queen of Asgard found herself retiring to the privacy of her rooms, mind filled with thoughts of her sons-and one in particular. _

_Another headache bloomed behind her eyes._

* * *

Frigga awoke suddenly, in a manner that one certainly does not enjoy waking in. Bolting upright before she even realized, heart pounding painfully in an effort to calm down, she looked around the room, eyes wide open as she attempted to discern what had woken her so suddenly. With a tired mumble, she rubbed her eyelids, slumping backwards in an exhausted manner against the bed.

She had been dreaming, again. Her mind revisiting that evening when her sons had returned to her. It had been many months since then, but still she remembered it clearly. Though, a few months in comparison to the amount of time she had lived was hardly a great deal-barely the blink of an eye.

In all that time, she had not seen hide nor hair of her youngest son. Odin and the elders had decided his fate behind closed doors- she and Thor having been excluded from the conference. She had known Loki hadn't been sentenced to death, though with the magnitude of his crimes, he could have been. But for all of his stony regard for Loki, Odin still held _some_ love for the boy he and Frigga had raised. She knew he could never willingly sentence him to execution.

But Loki's whereabouts had been hidden from her. Oh, she'd had a feeling he was being kept below the palace, in the dungeon. For when she had gone to investigate, the guards had barred her way, under orders from the Allfather to disallow her entry. Naturally, she was furious- Frigga was Queen! She could go wherever she wanted... but it was not to be. Even she had to obey Odin's will.

But that did not mean she had to enjoy it. Oh, Odin felt the extent of her anger. She had refused him entry into her bed for many long- to Odin, at least- weeks, until she had finally exhausted her anger. Now, she only held bitter resentment at being denied the privilege to visit her incarcerated son.

The specifics of her son's punishment had been kept from her as well. This made it all the worse for Frigga, for she could not help but imagine the things that might be happening to her boy...

No, she would not think of it. She trusted Odin to be fair, and that at least gave her some peace. But a part of her- particularly the one that emerged in her dreams- would not stop speculating as to the punishments her son was being subject to.

It seemed almost cruel, withholding the information from her. She was almost sure the truth would be better than her mind's cruel imaginings. But as her husband would say nothing, and the guards didn't say much of anything at all, she had no way of knowing besides breaking into the dungeons herself.

Oh, Odin would be displeased, surely. And Frigga doubted she could pull it off. Though the guards would never lay a hand on her- even in defense- they would certainly make it difficult to gain admittance to her son's cell. And there was Heimdall to consider as well. She had no doubt he kept a watchful eye over Loki's prison at all times.

She had already attempted asking him after her son's well being, but had received the same answers as the guards had given. The Allfather forbids speaking on the matter, King Odin must give permission, blah, blah...

Frigga stopped herself before she could roll her eyes, though the action was tempting. It was all so very frustrating! She was his _mother_, and yet Loki's fate must be hidden from her?

Growling under her breath, something she would _never_ do beyond the privacy of her chambers, she stood up, pacing furiously. Though she was foiled at every turn, there must be _some_ way to learn of her son's well being. And the Queen was nothing if not determined.

_Everyone believes Thor gets his stubbornness from Odin. Hah!_

Thor... Frigga could have slapped herself. The idea was so obvious, she cursed her mind for not coming up with it sooner. Thor could go down, check on Loki...

If she could track her son down, that is. The boy- man- was harder to pin down than smoke these days. Frigga's intuition told her he was doing his best to keep busy, to distract himself, else thoughts of Loki creep into his mind...

She knew Thor was taking his brother's imprisonment with difficulty. Her son had always had a big heart, and unfailing determination to see the good in everyone. Goodness knows he must be feeling horrible, for returning Loki to Asgard and his fate.

It could set both of their minds to ease, if they knew how the God of Mischief was fairing...

Frigga nodded decisively, and pulled aside the drapes to gaze into the sky. Thor would be returning for the evening, she was sure. For all of his love for the battlefield, she knew he loved his food and sleep just as much. No doubt he would return for a feast and then bed.

_I apologize, my dear son, but I fear your rest will be delayed tonight._

She returned the curtain to its rightful place, calling for her attendants to come to her aid. Frigga was on a mission, and she would stop at nothing to see she would meet success.

_Hold on, Loki..._

* * *

**A/N:**** Prologue finished. Satisfactorily, I hope? No doubt there are far more questions than answers at this point, most of which I hope to answer in the coming chapters. **

**Not much happened in this prologue, I'll admit. But, hey, it's a prologue, right? A bit of background information never hurts.**

**I have much of this story already written, but I am always open to constructive criticism and tips. The plot most likely won't change, but I am happy to tweak things to make the story better as a whole!**

**I decided to write Loki as close as I could to the way I imagined him. Many stories I read involving Loki-both in the 'Thor' and 'Avengers' fandoms portray him as weak, emotionally/physically, et cetera. It has always irked me to see him written this way-Loki is first and foremost, a badass, cunning, wickedly smart god who is well and able to hold his own against his foes. I have always pictured him as arrogant, intelligent, and proud-even under torture, for example. Some may disagree with my view of him, and I am certainly not saying I have never read a good story with an emotionally broken Loki story before. Far from it! But when writing him, I find myself unable to stray from my first impression of Loki-a glorified, magical badass. This story **_**does**_** have Loki!whump. Hell, I couldn't help myself. But that doesn't make him **_**weak**_** in this story. **

**I apologize for any and all mistakes you might find while reading-I obsessively triple-check my writing for errors, yet there are always some that evade my notice. Feel free to point any mistakes, in plot, grammar, spelling, et cetera! **

**So, my lovely readers, care to leave a review? You would make my day-**_***cough*week*cough***_**-and I always appreciate advice and (constructive) criticism!**

**Flamers will cook Thor feasts for an eternity. Yep. Scary prospect, huh?**


	2. Chapter One

**DISCLAIMER:**** I do not own Thor, the Avengers, or any of the characters. I'd like to think only the plot itself belongs to me, though even that is heavily influenced by the movies and comics themselves. Only thing I own is the television I used to watch the movies and the computer I use to write this damn thing.**

**A/N:**** This will be from mixed POVs, including Frigga and Thor. It should be fairly obvious who is thinking, though. You could almost say that this is completely third-person. No Loki just yet, but we'll get to him soon, I promise. I'm almost dreading abusing the poor guy, really. But we'll get to that laters.**

**WARNINGS: Erm...More angst? And quite a bit of dialogue. I always feel like my descriptions suffer when I use too much dialogue, but we'll see...**

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE**

* * *

Thor trudged with heavy steps up to the banquet tables. Just the sight of them, laden with so much food the wood itself creaks with the effort of supporting it all, makes Thor's appetite rear its gluttonous head. There was one thing Thor could very truthfully say he loved as much as the thrill of battle. The great thrill of feasting.

He had just returned from the sparring grounds, taking the time only to hurriedly bathe-his mother _hated_ when he sat down for a meal without removing the stench of battle practice from his skin. His muscles ached as he sat down, opting to take the seat beside his good friends, the Warriors Three. Sif was in Alfheim currently, doing Odin knows what, and the group of friends seemed incomplete without her presence. And far louder, without her chastising them.

Volstagg clapped Thor on the shoulder with his meaty fist, and Thor could not contain a broad grin at being reunited with his long time friends. Of course, he had seen them just that morning, but time could pass so very slowly when it wanted to, which could be both a blessing and a curse.

He glanced up where his mother and father usually sat, seeing neither there. His father was undoubtedly holding conference with other Asgardian nobles, and his mother was presumably sleeping-she had been doing quite a lot of that ever since his brother-...

No. Thor would not think of him now. There was no use brooding over that which he could not change.

Grabbing a large roasted leg, looking vaguely as if it once belonged to some mighty ox, Thor settled down to eat, chatting in between (and occasionally during) bites with his friends. No doubt Loki would have grumbled under his breath about his eating habits.

Thor very nearly sighed. His brother, once again invaded his thoughts as he did so often of late.

So immersed with his conversation with Fandral, that the crown Prince of Asgard did not notice the hall's doors open to admit his mother, long golden robes flowing and looking as regal as ever. Those she passed bowed respectfully, some standing up to do so. She took her seat gracefully, observing the hall before her.

Hogun elbowed Thor rather painfully between the ribs, ignoring the exclamation that followed. Thor for his part grumbled good-naturedly, but was distracted enough that his eyes caught sight of the Queen, looking directly at him. He looked rather sheepish- when had his mother entered the room?- but nodded his head at her. She watched him for a brief moment, before casting her eyes away, a soft smile on her lips that- Thor noticed- did not reach her eyes.

He frowned slightly, but put it out of his mind for the moment. Surely, if something was bothering his mother, she would speak of it to him. Right?

Returning to his feast, Thor scarcely felt the time pass until the hall was nearly empty, so greatly distracted was he by his meal and his friends' conversation. Only when he felt a light tap on his shoulder did he look around, seeing his mother standing behind him.

"Ah..." Thor rubbed the back of his head, getting up to bow before the Queen and kiss her hand. "My apologies, mother. I was preoccupied..." He glanced to the side to see Volstagg asleep, head slumped on the table, and Hogun missing entirely. Fandral, noticing Thor's new visitor, bowed respectfully and hurried away- presumably to flirt with the first wench he could find.

A quirk of his mother's lips was the only reaction his words received. "I noticed. If you are finished with your meal, would you care to join me for a walk?" Her voice was soft, not demanding. It was a suggestion- not an order like it would be if it had come from his father.

Thor nodded, smiling widely. It had been quite some time since he had any real opportunity to spend time with his mother and he had missed her company, not that he would ever admit it aloud. Offering his arm, he led his mother out of the nearly empty feasting hall.

"Where shall we walk to?"

But his mother did not answer, merely leading him silently. The slightest frown touched Thor's lips, but it was gone in an instant. He had grown used to his mother's fewer words in the passing months.

She led him silently by the arm, nodding regally to those who passed them by, until they reached a very isolated part of the palace, not a servant, guard, or warrior in sight.

Thor glanced around, eyes narrowed in confusion. "Mother...?"

She released his arm, giving a soft sigh. Having turned her back, Thor had no way of observing her expression as the softest whisper escaped her lips.

"My son..." She turned her head slightly. "I require your assistance with something I fear to ask another to help with."

Thor placed a hand on her shoulder, "Anything, mother. You know I will aid you in anything."

She turned fully, smiling in a sad, gentle way. "I know. Thank you, my dear son."

He pulled her into a warm, kind embrace, feeling her arms wrap around him as well.

"My darling boy..." She sighed, accepting the offered comfort for the briefest of moments. When Frigga pulled away, Thor could see tears in her eyes.

"I am frightened, my son." She admitted, with a little difficulty. Facing her grief alone was one thing, but to admit it to her son was another.

"Frightened of what?" Thor asked, looking baffled and concerned. His mother was the strongest woman he knew, what could possibly frighten her so far she would admit it to another?

"Not of. For." She clarified, and Thor wanted to groan at the cryptic answer, but before he could, she continued. "For Loki. For your brother."

"Loki?" His eyebrows furrowed. "I don't understand..."

"I fear for his well being." Frigga murmured, shutting her eyes as a lump blossomed in her throat. With difficulty, she spoke further. "I cannot help but worry... that he is unwell... hurt..."

Thor looks outraged at the thought. "Father wouldn't allow it." He stated with a firm nod.

Frigga gave an almost hysterical laugh. "Wouldn't he? If he thought it was to punish Loki for his misdeeds..."

"No..." Thor grumbled, but even he began to look doubtful. Frigga placed a gentle hand on his cheek.

"I must ask you to check on him, my son. I am not allowed into the dungeons any longer, and I fear what they might be hiding in their dark depths."

Thor feared it as well, now that he thought of it, but he protested. "I'm sure he's fine, mother. Father will be fair in punishing him, there is no need to worry..."

"But there is. Thor," she appeared utterly desperate, eyes wide in what Thor could only describe as fear. "_Please_ my son... If there is a chance... any chance that he is unduly hurt..."

Thor cringed at the thought. His brother had done many cruel things before, but Thor knew he would never abide Loki being tortured. Punished, yes, but nothing more.

As he gazed into the sad, pleading eyes of his loving mother, Thor found the words slip unbidden past his lips.

"I will visit him."

Frigga relaxed visibly, pulling him into a tight embrace, unable to convey her thanks with mere words. Thor held his mother for many long minutes, taking just as much comfort from the hug as she.

Finally, the Queen pulled away, discreetly wiping her eyes.

"Now, my dear, here is what we will do..."

* * *

**A/N: So, interesting so far? At least a little bit? Gah, I hate writing dialogue. I always feel like I never capture the characters well when I have them speak. I guess that makes me odd then, hah. Sorry the chapter was so terribly short. Next one is definitely longer. And contains our favorite megalomaniac, Loki!**

**And goodness, on a completely unrelated note, listening to the **_**Thor**_** soundtrack while writing does **_**wonders**_** for my muse. I love it when music makes me feel like a total badass when I'm listening, even though all I'm really doing is sitting on my butt typing. Such is my life.**

**So, review? It would make my day! ...okay, week. And I just want to thank those of you who followed and favorited this story- you made me smile!**

**Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated, and flames will be used to fight frost giants. (Aside from our Loki)**


	3. Chapter Two

**DISCLAIMER:**** I do not own Thor, the Avengers, or any of the characters. I'd like to think only the plot itself belongs to me, though even that is heavily influenced by the movies and comics themselves. Only thing I own is the television I used to watch the movies and the computer I use to write this damn thing.**

**WARNINGS:**** Right, last time to turn back now kiddies. Torture starts in this chapter. If you are even slightly unsure, it would be better for you and me both if you hit the back button before you see something you didn't want to. This is your last warning for the torture aspect of this story. **

**Angst, Loki!whump/torture, blood, more torture, and cursing. Did I forget to mention torture?**

**Last chance to turn back. Not my fault if you read on and get offended.**

**Flamers will be stuck with Thanos for the foreseeable future. Cheers!**

* * *

**CHAPTER TWO**

* * *

The thick, heavy shackles weighed heavily on his feet, suspended a few inches off the ground and being pulled further with the almost impossible weight of the metal. His wrists, caked with innumerable layers of dried, flaky blood and a much newer, slicker coating of red made the cuffs on his wrists pull harder to support the weight yanking on his ankles. His shoulders burned, the ends of his arms long since gone numb. A few weeks and the rest of the limbs would surely follow.

The incessant, irritating _drip, drip, drip_ of water somewhere nearby- another cell, perhaps- was only serving to drive the god even more insane than was presently the case. Was it too much to ask that _somebody_ patch up whatever leak was undoubtedly causing that _infuriating_ _dripping?_

Ah, of course, he forgets. And not for the first time, either. He dimly notices the blood-coated stitches pulling uncomfortably against his- no longer quite so swollen- lips as he gives a sort of twisted smirk. He couldn't ask, even if he so desired (and he did. Oh, gods did he desire to ask). Not that it would help him any, even if he _could_ voice his demands. The guards of his cell cared only enough about his well-being to splash water on his face, sometimes. If he was lucky, a few drops would slip between the stitches and into his parched mouth, though they never provided much relief. Only succeeding in fanning the flames of his dehydration.

A lack of water would not kill him, certainly. Neither a lack of food. He was a _god_ for pity's sake. But even in all of his stubborn pride, Loki had to admit, he would greatly appreciate a long drink, or even a nibble of _something_ edible. Impossible with the stitches, he knows, but it couldn't hurt to hope.

_Hope. Sentiment. Abominable _feelings_._

He doubts his thoughts could drip with more disdain than was already present.

He had lost track of the days. The guards hardly visited regularly. And with no windows or other light sources in his cell, he couldn't be sure as to the time of day, or day of the week. Though he was quite sure it had been many, _many_ weeks.

He snorts derisively through his nose, staring into the black cloth of his blindfold. Or was it blue? Green? He could hardly tell, with no light to filter through the fabric. There hadn't been any light for a very long time. Even the guards who checked on him rarely, always neglected to carry lanterns or torches with them.

_Do they wish for me to lose my sight, as well as my speech?_

His hearing and other senses were as good as ever, certainly. Aside from his sense of taste, but he hardly had opportunity to test that now did he? The vile stench of the cell, the iron scent of his blood rotting along the walls and floors. He felt acutely the chill that permeated these dungeons- a chill so deep it even bothered his Jotun blood. Or, perhaps he had simply grown weak.

Of course, fever made the chill even worse. His wounds would often grow infected, and though it certainly would not kill him, it made him quite utterly miserable. And irritable. Oh, very irritable indeed.

There was that itch again. Underneath his left ribs. The bite he had sustained there from the venomous serpent that had been unleashed upon him had long since scabbed over, but the remains of the horrific, fire-like substance still bothered him. Now, what had once been agony, had slowly faded into a horrible itchiness.

That snake had been as much of a prisoner as he, Loki thinks. Before the blindfold. He had seen every strike of its head, the iron muzzle around its jaws had been loosened enough to allow the enraged animal to attack the god presented to it, again, again, and again until Loki's every vein, every muscle and bone, was on _fire._ And when the snake's venom had been nearly spent, the guards milked its fangs into Loki's eyes.

Oh, it burned like the fires of Hel. The blindfold had been placed over his eyes soon after, trapping the poison behind his eyelids and rendering him unable to test whether his sight was truly damaged by the vile substance.

Though, Loki mused, it wouldn't matter. It wasn't like there would be a need to have working sight again. Not since he had no chance in all the Nine Realms to escape his prison. No, he would be stuck here for an eternity, or until Asgard was destroyed. Either way, he was in for a very long time, trapped in darkness with no hope of speech.

Oh, Loki had not been pleased when they removed his metal gag, only to be replaced with the harsh cord of the stitches. He had already tried to rip them from his lips, gnaw at the cords with his teeth for countless days to no avail. He doubted any blade or weapon could fray the thread, and without access to his magic (damnable cuffs!) he couldn't attempt any other means.

Loki had, for all intents and purposes, given up. At least, that's what his captors thought- and occasionally, so did Loki himself. He was, to put it bluntly, stuck. And it infuriated the God of Mischief to no end!

Mostly, he hung limply day after day, his limbs growing cold and numb as his restraints cut off his circulation. He hardly even moved, even when the guards used him to vent their frustrations, whatever those were. No doubt they grew tired of guarding a- for all intents and purposes- unresponsive, apathetic prisoner. Oh, he knew they enjoyed torturing him. And he knew Odin knew as well. No doubt the bastard, the _wise_ and _powerful_ _Allfather_ (Loki's inner voice dripped with sarcasm) had ordered them to- what was the mortal term? Ah, _have at it._

He had long since ceased to respond to their _not-so-gentle_ care. Not that he did much in the first place. Loki was _far_ to proud to utter a scream, especially under such plebeian torture attempts. They were the attempts of infants, in comparison to the pain he had been under when Thanos-

No. He refused to think that monster's name.

The whippings were nothing- though the guards did like to experiment. Using bone and glass and sharpened blades at the end of the ropes, seeing if it could draw a scream... At most, Loki would outwardly flinch, his muscles quivering in an instinct to get away- an instinct that he vehemently fought.

Oh, they tried other means, of course. Removing his nails, breaking his fingers, his arms, his legs... shoving rusty blades between his ribs and dragging brands and torches across his skin...

They even had a sorcerer- a weak one, Loki sneered- who carved rather inelegant runes in his skin that set his Jotun blood on fire, burned with such a fury that he might have screamed had he been weaker...

Poisons he was certain had been concocted and brewed specifically for his torture had been splashed on his skin, poured down his nostrils, dripped into his wounds, causing inexplicable torment to the god. Blisters had appeared on his skin, his muscles had seized and throbbed with phantom sensations, his internal organs ripping apart before mending anew, only to begin the torment again.

But in the end, they always gave up. For what fun, was a prisoner who no longer responded to their efforts of pain? No fun. Loki certainly knew that from experience, and not as the victim.

He chuckles, the sound a ragged, dry hiss of breath that escapes his bound lips like a dying whisper.

Perhaps, in a few hundred years, when lack of sustenance and water had taken its toll on his body, he might be able to slip through his shackles...

And Loki, for all of his delight in mischief and chaos, was a patient god. He could wait to have his revenge, of which he surely would, and the realms would shatter from the destruction he would cause. Ragnarok would be a hopeful dream in his victim's minds, after they would be subjected to the wrath of the furious god Loki Silvertongue.

The thought brings a grim parody of a smile to his stitched lips.

_Oh Allfather, you have no idea the mistake you made in refusing to execute me for my crimes..._

* * *

**A/N: What can I say, I love insane!Loki. Because an insane!Loki is a badass!Loki, and I do love when my favorite characters end up being BAMFs.**

**The torture I put Loki through is actually **_**extremely**_** tame, compared to some stuff I read. But still, I know some of you will blow a fuse if I neglect to warn you about sensitive content.**

**I know I promised a longer chapter, but I really wanted to get this one to you guys. Well, I suppose it is about two-hundred words longer than chapter one, but I think I'm just making excuses for myself. What can I say, I love all my readers and hate to keep you guys waiting!  
**

**Now, my lovelies, care to leave a review? Constructive criticism is always appreciated, and flames will be laughed at.**


	4. Chapter Three

**DISCLAIMER:**** I do not own Thor, the Avengers, or any of the characters. I'd like to think only the plot itself belongs to me, though even that is heavily influenced by the movies themselves. Only thing I own is the television I used to watch the movies and the computer I use to write this damn thing.**

**WARNINGS:**** Angst, obviously. Loki torture, violence, et cetera. Turn back if you don't like any of those things.**

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE**

* * *

Loki was awoken by a grunt outside. Not just an idle, conversational grunt typically indicating a passive interest in a subject. No, this was a grunt of pain- and it was quickly accompanied by what distinctly sounded like a hammer against stone.

_Will they smash my bones again? _

He could hardly suppress a derisive snort. Obviously, his captors has brought a new _toy_ to use on him, and were having great trouble wielding it, if the rather obnoxious noises down the hall from his cell were any indication.

_Imbeciles._

A small, distant part of Loki's consciousness shuddered in anticipation for the torture. Oh, he would never show it, of course. And the god was far to proud to scream, but that certainly did not imply that he wouldn't feel the pain. And Loki was far from being a masochist- on the contrary, he preferred to avoid physical agony whenever possible.

Unless he was the one giving it, of course.

It sounded like the guards were moving closer- if the scuffling and groaning was any indication. Gods, were these fools _really_ so woefully incompetent? He heard one let out a shrill yelp of pain, before going silent.

_Perhaps the cretin has knocked himself unconscious. Idiot._

Unable to see anything through the blindfold, Loki had to be content with using his ears, listening for any breath or hint of what was to come. But strangely, all noise beyond his cell had been rendered completely silent.

No, not completely- Loki had to strain his hearing to catch it- the sound of low, harsh breathing was just barely audible outside the door. Heavy chains and rusty locks echoed loudly as the guard outside fumbled with keys- he could hear the dull clanking as they rattled on the hook. It took several moments, but finally he could hear the last lock give, and the heavy door open.

No light escaped past Loki's blindfold to reach his eyes, but he didn't expect it to. He strongly believed he was either blind or the fabric enchanted to bring complete and utter darkness.

But Loki was unsettled- why could he only hear one source of breathing? The guards never, ever came alone, even bound and silenced as he was.

A deep gasp of shock rumbled from the one who had entered his confinement. The sound was familiar, but Loki could not for the life of him place it.

Until it spoke, of course. One shocked, enraged word.

_"Loki?"_

And suddenly, everything made sense as a sudden onslaught of thunder rolled in the sky.

* * *

Thor was beyond outraged. He was _furious_. The light from the hall fell into the small room, revealing first the horrible blood stains on the walls and ground. The smell very nearly made Thor gag- and he was not the type to have a weak stomach. But the thick, metallic stench of it hit Thor like a wave, assaulting his senses mercilessly.

The light glinted along chains- large links that were far heavier than they looked, he suspected. They were set into the wall, and he doubted they would come free easily. The heavy chains attached to thick manacles, glowing faintly from the light or magic, Thor could not tell. The metal was coated in blood- dried and fresh- and pulled cruelly at the limbs they restrained.

The Thunderer couldn't have held back his livid cry as his eyes fell upon the sight of his brother. If Thor hadn't been so incensed he might have retched at the sight.

His gaze was first drawn to the god's face, a black strip of fabric pulled tightly over his eyes. Scars looking remarkably like acid tear tracks trailed down Loki's sunken cheeks, almost resembling burns. He had several cuts across his jaw and face, but those were not what drew Thor's attention.

His eyes were unconsciously glued to the horrible looking stitches sewn across his brother's lips, the job uneven and hideous. The thread looked rough and painful, and dried streaks of blood clung to Loki's chin from the punctures along his mouth.

His clothes were in tatters, revealing horrible wounds littering his brother's body. He would inspect those later, to assess the extent of the damage. But for now, he had to get his brother out of there. Thor swallowed, taking an uneasy step forward. He was unsure whether his brother was unconscious or not. He looked dead, but the uneven rise and fall of his chest told otherwise.

Nearly a foot away, the god reached out a hand, intent on removing the blindfold. But Loki gives a sudden jerk that very nearly causes Thor to jump as well. The heavy chains rattle with his brother's movement, yanking harshly on his wrists. Not asleep, then.

"Brother?"

Loki groans deep in his throat, the sound muffled by his bound lips. It is more of a dry hiss, so parched even that sound seemed to rip painfully at his throat.

Thor feels guilty for having not thought to bring water. But what reason had he to suspect that Loki would be so mistreated?

_Fool,_ the part of his mind that always seemed to sound like Loki hissed at him.

Thor moves his hands around to untie the cloth round Loki's eyes. It would do no good to accidentally hurt him by ripping it.

As soon as the fabric is pulled away, Loki reels back as best as he can, eyelids squeezed painfully shut as he tries to shut out the sudden light that practically _scorches_ his eyeballs with its intensity.

_I guess that answers one question. Not blind after all._

If he could speak, he would be screaming at Thor to _put that damned thing back on you ridiculous moron!_ but only managed a muffled protest that ripped at his dry throat and pulled at his stitches.

Thor's eyes widen, and he fumbles to replace the cloth while Loki thrashes his head in pain. How long had he been without light? Without water, or food? Without the ability to _speak_?

As soon as the cloth is replaced, the god stops his thrashing, hanging limply suspended by his chains as he breaths heavily through his nose. Gods, that had been a brief, painful experience he hoped to not feel again anytime soon. Stupid, idiotic Thor!

Thor, for his part, looks extremely guilty- though Loki cannot see his expression. Deciding it would be best to leave his face alone for now, Thor focuses on attempting to release the shackles.

"I'll get you out of this place, brother. I swear it!"

Loki would snort if his throat wasn't already in pain. Surely the idiot didn't think the guards would just let him _walk out of there_. And of course, his father would see-

_No. Thor's father. Not mine._

Loki had no doubt Heimdall would be watching him, and inform the Allfather immediately. Escape, at this point, would be futile, and only serve to earn Loki more torture and harsher imprisonment.

_Of course. The great fool wouldn't think things through beyond 'rescuing' me from my cell. Idiot, idiot, idiot!_

Loki hardly notices Thor fumbling with his chains, until finally, he grows impatient and gives them a good smash with Mjolnir, careful to keep enough distance from his brother's hands and feet. Thor would feel horribly guilty if he managed to accidentally hurt his brother... Again.

As the last chain is broken, Loki falls to the floor in a crumpled heap, unable to right himself before he hits the ground. Thor bends down, attempting to support his brother only to receive a weak swat on his arm for his efforts. Loki struggles visibly to get to his knees, the pain from his many wounds flaring intensely until he is almost overwhelmed with the pain. A hiss escapes his lips, the stitches pulling uncomfortably with his grimace.

Thor watches helplessly as his brother struggles, refusing any help. Finally, after what had to have been dozens of tries- or so it felt to Loki- he slumps in a defeated heap, face turned with an obvious scowl on his features, even partially covered by the blindfold.

The Thunderer takes this as his chance to help his stubborn brother, and carefully as he is able, Thor lifts Loki off the ground, trying not to wince when the mischievous god gives a grunt of pain.

They have little time- his mother had told him he must hurry, for she could only shield them from Heimdall's gaze for so long. Thor was worried that by rushing he would push Loki too hard, but he supposed if worse came to worse he could carry him.

"Can you stand, if I aid you?" Thor asks in a low voice, watching his brother's face carefully.

Loki swallows dryly, unable to respond verbally. He tests the strength of his legs, wincing inwardly. His left limb was completely useless- the bones had yet to repair, and the process was infinitely slower without his magic. But, after a moment's consideration, he gives a slight nod.

Thor drapes one of his brother's slight arms around his shoulders, trying to pretend he didn't notice Loki cringe as the motion pulled painful at his side. It couldn't be helped, and they didn't have the time to find a better position.

"Come, brother. I shall lead you to safety." Thor attempts to sound reassuring, but Loki only scoffs, gesturing with his still cuffed hand to the open door.

_Then lead, you idiot._

* * *

**A/N: Chapter Three for you! What do you think? I do hope I managed to capture their character satisfactorily...**

**Review, please? So many of you read my story, yet almost none of you review! It takes only a moment, and makes my muse work even faster. **

**Thank you for reading, my lovelies. And thank you, JannaKalderash, for being my first reviewer! I completely agree with you, Odin has always been out of line. The next chapter will be out soon!**


	5. Chapter Four

**DISCLAIMER:**** I do not own Thor, the Avengers, or any of the characters. I'd like to think only the plot itself belongs to me, though even that is heavily influenced by the movies themselves. Only thing I own is the television I used to watch the movies and the computer I use to write this damn thing.**

**WARNINGS:**** References to Loki!torture. Slash only if you squint. Squint _really_ hard.  
**

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR**

* * *

The Thunder God had neither light feet nor silent movements, making the journey underneath the castle loud and obnoxious to Loki's ears. How did Thor believe they could make it out of there undetected if every one of the elder's footsteps sounded like its own crash of thunder?

Perhaps the God of Mischief was being a bit over-sensitive, but now that he was out of the room that had been his prison for months, he couldn't deny the hope that they might possibly escape...

_Hope_, his inner voice sneered. _A useless sentiment. Facts are far more reliable. _

And the fact was, that they would probably be found- with his brother's terribly conspicuous movements. Thor would predictably be chastised like a child, while Loki would face far worse than he had been so far, should they be caught.

Loki, for all of his lifetime spent in Asgard, could not guess where Thor was leading him, or the route they were taking. The blindfold rendered his sight useless, and he was far more focused on not tripping or slowing them down to construct a mental map. No, he would have to trust that the god supporting him knew where they were going.

Loki can hear footsteps a short way away- not particularly rushed ones, either. He swallows- or at least tries to swallow- down a gulp of slight fear. But the steps were at a normal pace- they weren't looking for him yet, at least.

Abruptly, Loki could feel himself being shoved against a wall- what felt to be a large alcove- the breath knocked out of him at the suddenness of the action. He gasps- both from the pain (honestly, couldn't Thor be a _little_ more gentle?) and his own surprise- his brother's fist cannot cover his stitched lips fast enough to keep it from escaping. The god groans, and Loki can hear the owner of the footsteps freeze.

He had no doubt Thor's very large form easily hid his own, and for a moment, Loki wondered what would hide the mighty Thunderer from sight as well. As the footsteps grew closer, much more quickly than before, he hears a startled gasp, and babbled- _embarrassed?_- excuses.

"M-my Prince, my apologies- I didn't mean to i-intrude-..." Ah. Loki could have laughed. The _poor_ guard assumed Thor was busily occupied with some faceless wench.

_I _suppose_ the Almighty Thunderer isn't quite as stupid as he acts_...

Thor turns his head around, and Loki imagines a thoroughly cross and disgruntled expression on the Thunderer's face as he growls, "Then leave us be, fool!"

The patrolman immediately flees the other way, his footsteps easily giving away his panic.

Once Loki can no longer hear the fading footfalls, he swats Thor away, though perhaps not nearly as roughly as he desired. Thor allows him space, and though Loki cannot see, his face is a mixture of embarrassment and strangely, pride.

Saying nothing- for what was there to say?- Thor drapes Loki's arm over his shoulders once more, supporting him through the rest of the palace as quickly as his brother can keep up.

* * *

Frigga had told Thor she would be in the back courtyard, waiting for him. If Loki had been injured, or mistreated, or worse...Thor was to bring him along. If not, if everything was alright, then he would return alone.

This is why her heart gives a painful lurch when she hears not one pair of footsteps- but two. The latter having a much more irregular rhythm. She almost dreads seeing the owner of the second pair, for Thor would not have brought him if his condition was not disturbing.

She turns, just in time to see her boys move slowly into the courtyard, the lantern she held clearly illuminating them both.

It took all of Frigga's power to hold back a small scream of horror. Her poor Loki... Damn her husband! Damn him!

Thor sets Loki down on the lone bench near his mother, trying to pretend he couldn't hear his brother's muffled his of discomfort. Frigga rushes over, fully panicked now that her shock has worn off. She attempts to undo Loki's blindfold, and Thor quickly but gently restrains her wrists.

"We must dim the lanterns first-!" he whispers, and it takes a few seconds for Frigga to understand.

"Y-yes of course..." With faintly trembling fingers she lowers the light of the lantern until it is nearly black around them, and Thor nods in the dark approvingly, removing the cloth himself.

Loki braces himself for yet another harsh wave of light, but finds to his relief his eyes are only met with the dimmest glow of a flame. He blinks several times, his vision unfocused and unclear- and it is only after a moment that he notices his mother- no, _Frigga_- watching him with tear-filled orbs.

"Oh, my sweet son, what have those monsters done to you?" She whispers, and it is quite obvious that she is holding back a sob, determined to appear strong.

The god grimaces, his stitches pulling uncomfortably with the action, and he does his best to sit up straight. He would _not_ appear weak!

The Queen gives him a sad, understanding smile, fingers reaching out to brush against her son's gruesome stitches.

Loki reels back as if slapped, and not from Frigga's touch alone. The slightest brush of her fingers causes the stitches to flare white-hot, jolting him with a shock of pain. He stifles a groan, scowling up at her.

"...I cannot remove them." She whispers regretfully. "I have not the magical strength..."

"But can you remove the cuffs?" Thor inquires hopefully. "I dare not strike them with Mjolnir for fear I harm my brother further."

Loki gives Thor a glare that seems to say both _I'm not weak, fool!_ and _That hammer had _better_ not come anywhere near me!_

Frigga looks down, considering the rough, blood-caked metal. "They are enchanted...but yes, I think I might be able to remove them. But that will mean my attention is diverted from shielding you from Heimdall's gaze."

Thor frowns, looking as if he thinks it might not be worth it. But Loki has other ideas- roughly thrusting out his wrists, clearly demanding the binds be removed, his eyes _daring_ them to refuse. He had gone long enough without the presence of his magic, he would wait no longer!

"...very well, my dear. Try to hold steady." Frigga gently holds Loki's left wrist in her own, carefully pressing in different spots on the metal, as if testing its strength. Turning his wrist ever so slightly, she frowns in concentration, before with a single, sudden motion, dragging her fingernail across the metal.

Thor resists the urge to cover his ears- the sound is positively _ghastly_, like nails on one of those green walls the midgardians use to educate their younglings. The metal sparks, and Loki closes his eyes as quickly as he can against the brief burst of light in his vision. As it dims once more, the metal hisses, smoking faintly, before dropping from his bruised and bloody wrist.

"Once more, my son..." Frigga murmurs soothingly, repeating the same process on Loki's other wrist. The cuffs on his ankles were of normal metal, they required nothing special to remove them save a good smash or two. Ridding her adopted son of his wrist binds, she picks up the smoking metal off the ground, watching with a pitying gaze as Loki attempts to rub some circulation into his hands, attempting to hide a wince when his wounds are brushed.

But oh, he can feel his _magic_ again, and it is the sweetest sensation. Feeling so cold and empty, only to be suddenly filled with warmth and _power_.

Oh, he was by no means to full strength- that would come in time, he has no doubt. But for now, he is placated, and that would have to be enough.

"You two must flee, quickly." Frigga whispers. "No doubt Heimdall will have seen your empty cell, Loki, and he will alert Odin. You have no time to waste."

She rests her hand gently against Loki's cheek, watching sadly as he refuses to meet her eyes. "If I had known, my son..." The trickster god scoffs, flinching minutely as she kisses his head.

Embracing her eldest, she whispers into his ear. _"Protect your brother, Thor. He will need you, now more than ever." _The Thunderer nods, embracing his mother warmly.

"I swear it."

"Now go. You can delay no longer." The shouts of furious guards could be heard nearby, inside the palace. "I love you both..."

Frigga takes a step away, knowing she must hurry to a different part of the castle before the guards reach their location. Thor raises his hand to stop her.

"Wait-! How are we to leave?"

"Loki knows," she assures him, though casting a worried glance at the mischief god in the process. "It will be difficult my son, but I believe you can accomplish it." Her words were directed at Loki, who looks away, only the smallest of nods indicating he heard her.

"Good-bye, my boys." Frigga takes her leave, moving as fast as she can without looking suspicious, back into the palace.

Thor waits a moment, watching her go, but turns around at the sound of his brother struggling to get up.

"Here-" but Loki swats him away, scowling. Thor does not move to help him, but remains within catching distance should he fall or stumble.

The trickster manages after a moment to stand, and using the wall of the courtyard as support, moves a few yards from the bench to a seemingly empty stretch of stone.

It is fortunate he needs no words to accomplish his task, though his weakened magic would make it all the more difficult. Placing his bloodied hand on the wall, he slides his fingers around, until he senses the tear. With Thor just a hairsbreadth behind him, he plunges his arm through the stone, grunting for the briefest moment. After taking a few deep breaths, Loki _pulls_, and suddenly the wall gives way to a black emptiness that sets Thor's teeth on edge.

"Brother...?"

Loki only glares at him to _shut up_, grabbing Thor's cape with as much force as he can muster, and stumbles into the blackness.

* * *

**A/N: Chapter four, for all of you! How was it?**

**I truly know next to nothing about Loki's magic, and I completely made that last bit up. But, hey, gold star for trying, right? Right?**

**Thank you all for your amazing reviews! I'm sure I received some odd looks when I started to do a happy dance after reading them. Thank you thank you!**

**Review, my lovelies! You make writing all the more rewarding for me, and I greatly appreciate your input!  
**


	6. Chapter Five

**DISCLAIMER:**** I do not own Thor, the Avengers, or any of the characters. I'd like to think only the plot itself belongs to me, though even that is heavily influenced by the movies themselves. Only thing I own is the television I used to watch the movies and the computer I use to write this damn thing.**

**WARNINGS:**** Blood, but nothing else.  
**

* * *

**CHAPTER FIVE**

* * *

Thor had no time to brace himself, before the darkness suffocated him. He could neither see nor hear- the cold, vacant depths seemed to press on his senses until he was sure he could no longer hear his own _thoughts_ clearly. His lungs fight desperately for air, instincts screaming madly at him to _get out of here_!

_Have you brought us to die, brother?_ Thor wonders amidst his panic, and were it not for Loki's fingers nearly ripping his cape in a death grip, the thunderer was sure he would drift away, lost forever in this desolate void.

He could not tell if they were moving or remaining still- no air currents rushed past his skin or gravity pulled him down. He wasn't sure if they were drifting, falling, or worse yet, frozen in place. He would have to trust that Loki knew what he was doing, where to go, and most importantly how to _get_ there.

Thor was sure the silence would drive him mad- he could not even hear his own armor moving as he scrabbled and clawed instinctively for _something_ to anchor him, to bring him out of this gods forsaken space.

A firm yank on his cape brought him out of his unconscious terror for a brief moment, the reminder that Loki was here calming him ever so slightly.

_I must trust he can bring us out of here_.

No sooner than the words cross his mind, he is falling, faster than he had ever felt before- even when he had dropped from that floating fortress belonging to SHIELD. This was like no drop he had ever imagined, so fast and heavy that he was sure he would be stretched by the force of it...

The impact of solid ground quite literally hits him like a wall, and were he mortal, Thor was sure he would not have survived the force of it. He rests in the long grass, gasping great lungfuls of air, the relief from the suffocation before making him light-headed.

Beside him, he can hear Loki breathing equally as hard, his coughs muffled by the cord through his lips. But even with his injuries and exhaustion, Loki recovers before Thor, simply laying in the snow with a muffled groan, his breaths much more even than before.

Thor's limbs feel abnormally heavy, like the full weight of Mjolnir in the hands of a mortal, and it takes the greatest effort to simply move his head to look at his brother.

"L-Loki...?"

The trickster god swats weakly at his arm, and Thor would have chuckled if he wasn't so _tired_. He hadn't expected their fall, or whatever that had been, to take so much out of the thunderer.

"Wh-where are we?" He was certain they weren't in Asgard or on Alfheim. And there was absolutely no ice or snow in sight, ruling out Jotunheim and Niflheim.

Loki turns his head, giving him a _Look_ so scathing that Thor could almost hear Loki snarling.

_Where do you think, you imbecile?_

"Vanaheim?"

A snarl was his answer. Thor knew it would be unwise to ask if they were in Helheim or Muspelheim- even a blind man would have noticed the absence of fire and decay here.

"Then...Midgard?"

Loki raises two bloodied and faintly trembling hands to clap twice, the action practically _oozing_ sarcasm.

Thor's lips twitch, not at all offended by his brother's attitude. Loki looks away with a scowl, forcing himself to get up slowly. The trickster ignores the heavy feeling in his limbs that was quite similar to the sensation after coming out of a very deep, exhausted slumber- and does not outwardly react to the small spikes of pain coming from his wounds. They couldn't just lay about- there was too much work to be done, and Loki was too proud to allow Thor to do everything.

The thunderer was a bit angry with himself, seeing Loki get up and being moving around- he should be the strong one! It was cowardly of him, to allow his injured and exhausted brother to move about while he rested.

Pushing aside his physical exhaustion and ignoring it stubbornly, Thor moved to get to his feet, placing a hand on Loki's arm.

"Brother, sit back down! You have exerted yourself far too much to be moving about-" This earned the thunderer a glare. "-and I would not forgive myself if you collapsed."

Loki raised a challenging eyebrow, ignoring Thor's request completely as he continued to walk.

With a growl of frustration, the thunder god hurried after Loki, and daringly scooped him up and held him over his shoulder.

Ignoring the enraged, muffled yell from the dark haired god, and the fists hitting his back and clawing at his hair, Thor carried his brother in the direction he had been walking before.

"We must find shelter-" Loki yanks his hair furiously. "-and tend your wounds. All else can wait."

He could tell that being unable to argue with Thor was making Loki hissing mad, and for once Thor was glad his magic was still weak. The trickster god could be quite terrifying at full power, and Thor was not fool enough to think he could stand a chance against an enraged, magical Loki-tantrum and escape unharmed.

Thor glanced about, ignoring Loki's continuing shrieks of rage. Far from them, he could see those black and white beasts- occasionally brown as well- that midgardians favored their meat and milk from. They seemed peaceful enough, but Thor kept Mjolnir ready in his fist. And even further- behind the grazing beasts- stood a rather large building, the architecture simple but sturdy.

"Loki- brother, cease your struggling! I have located shelter for us."

The god slumps with a muffled growl of defeat, not even bothering to look around and find the place Thor spoke of. Quite simply, he was exhausted and weak, and seething more than a cat trapped inside a bag.

Adjusting his grip on the trickster as gently as possible, Thor strides with new purpose towards the barn, the cows paying them no mind as he walked past them. A light drizzle of rain had begun to fall, but the thunderer hardly noticed, intent on reaching the shelter.

Dropping Mjolnir briefly, he grips the door, pulling firmly. It does not open, and the thunder god attempts to push instead. Nothing happened.

The rain is pouring faster now, and Thor growls deeply in his throat. Picking up his hammer, he smashes it into the wood, splinters flying everywhere. Two more strikes and the hole it large enough that Thor and Loki can squeeze through into the dry and surprisingly warm interior. The smell of straw is strong, tickling Thor's sinuses uncomfortably. No animals rested inside, save for the squeak of a barn mouse as it darted away from the gods, climbing the rafters.

Thor carefully sets Loki down, resting him against a pile of the scratchy straw. His brother frowns as he looks around, obviously displeased with Thor's choice of shelter.

"It is only temporary," he assures the smaller god, but his efforts are ignored. Now with a chance to rest, Thor sits down across from his brother, watching him carefully.

"Your wounds... we should heal them."

But the trickster god disagrees, much to Thor's confusion. Rather than attempt to tend his own injuries, the mischief god attempts to yank at his stitches- the cord pulling his skin harshly but not breaking or weakening.

"Brother- Loki, stop!" But the god would not be deterred, ripping and clawing at the thread until blood drips from his lips far too quickly- dribbling down his chin and soaking the straw beneath him in dark red. The god does not seem to register the pain- his green eyes glazed slightly as he works himself into a frenzy. Thor attempts to grab his brother's wrists, but a painful shock surges through his limbs for his efforts, and the thunderer can only watch helplessly as his brother struggles.

* * *

_Get them off get them off get them off-!_

Loki's fingers burn as the cord slices into them, ripping his lips with every desperate tug and furious yank. He had been silent for far too long, and the need to remove his binds was over-whelming. Thor was obviously distressed, but ignoring him was easy for Loki. The stitches were the only thing that mattered to him. Even the burst of energy that zapped the thunderer was an accident- but it served to silence his brother's panic which was all fine and well for the trickster.

He knew he was bleeding- the thick, hot fluid dripping sluggishly from his lips and painting his skin red was proof enough. They bled inside as well, filling his mouth with a metallic warmth that he had no choice but to swallow lest he choke on it.

After what felt like hours of attempting to remove the thread, Loki was forced to admit defeat, pulling his fingers away and sagging back against the hay. His lips continued to bleed, and he swallowed unconsciously, blinking away the damnable moisture pooling in the corners of his lids. He refused to show weakness in front of Thor- the thought was simply unacceptable.

"Loki..." But of course the thunderer would see. It appeared the idiot had a radar for emotional weakness. "We will find a way to remove them, brother. I swear it. But you should not injure yourself further by attempting."

Loki could have scoffed. His brother's sickening sentiment made him feel ill. Or perhaps that was simply the unsettling amount of blood he had swallowed. Either way, he had no wish to listen to Thor's pathetic assurances. Turning on his side so he was facing away from the other god, Loki pulled aside his worn tunic relishing the sting as his clothing clung and pulled painfully at his wounds. It was a distraction, tearing his mind away from the helplessness he felt at being unable to remove the barbaric thread closing his lips.

Ignoring Thor's gaze on his back, Loki used a little of his magic to soothe the punctures along his side that continued to burn like the fires of Muspelheim, if only to provide a little relief. It would have to be enough, for now. He sighs quietly in the back of his throat, still parched and now sticky with thick blood. Blasted stitches.

_I _will_ remove them. Perhaps not today, or tomorrow... but I swear on my blood that it will come off! Even if I must rip my lips away to accomplish it!_

And with that thought, the god smiles cruelly, stitches stretching his skin roughly as he shuts his eyes- the sweet pull of unconsciousness dragging him into sleep.

* * *

**A/N: For some reason I had more difficulty writing this chapter than I have with the others. Hopefully I wrote it acceptably. **

**Review my dears! You keep my muse running, which is always a good thing, yes?**


	7. Chapter Six

**DISCLAIMER:**** I do not own Thor, the Avengers, or any of the characters. I'd like to think only the plot itself belongs to me, though even that is heavily influenced by the movies. Only thing I own is the television I used to watch them and the computer I use to write this thing.**

**WARNINGS****: None.**

* * *

CHAPTER SIX

* * *

Thor watched his brother sleep, an uncharacteristically grim expression painting his face.

He blamed the trickster god's condition on himself. It was he who foolishly chose to believe his father would grant Loki mercy. He who blindly accepted the Allfather's false assurances, he who did not press for further information in spite of the sickening dread at the back of his mind, telling him all was not what it seemed...

But Odin was his _father_, for pity's sake! And he had been Loki's father as well. Why shouldn't Thor have believed his brother would be punished fairly?

_You choose to forget that which you have seen with your own eyes_, a dark voice whispered in his mind. _Have you so easily forgotten your youth?_

A fair point. Thor could easily recall his and Loki's childhood. Getting into spats, going where they were not allowed, playing tricks- which Thor had enjoyed with nearly as much relish as Loki when they had been young- and the consequences. His punishments had always been rather mild- not allowed to venture beyond the corridor outside his rooms for a day or two, withholding his most favorite dishes at meals, while still allowing him to eat, and no sparring for a short time. Oh, he was perfectly aware that he had received tame punishments at best, while his brother...

Thor never wanted to think about the differences between the consequences of Loki's actions versus his own. It made him feel superior- and Thor hated thinking he and Loki were anything but equal. They were brothers, surely they should be treated the same way!

_But we were not, _Thor observes sadly. _Loki was always worse off._

For his brother was always being blamed for something. Forest fire? Loki. The meat in the kitchens spoiled? Loki. Young Thor chasing his caretakers with his practice sword? No doubt Loki, manipulating his poor elder brother.

Thor had not realized at the time, had not seen the connection. But he did now, and it filled him with immeasurable guilt.

Where Thor would receive a whack on the shins from his instructors, Loki would receive lashings. Where as Thor was denied his preferred mutton at dinner, Loki was forbidden to eat at all.

And as they aged, Loki's situation grew worse. He had no friends- all eyes had been on Thor. Any attempts at companionship were shunned. His magic was feared and scorned- lashing insults and cruel words mocking his physical skills in battle and what many considered to be a 'womanly' form. Always comparing him to his golden sibling, his strong, brave, and handsome brother.

Thor hadn't seen it! He had not realized the pain his brother was being put through until it was far, far too late. And the thunderer feared the cost was greater than he could imagine.

_Not every wound is physical._

Thor was sure his brother was hurting, inside. Beneath the dark scowls and cutting looks, he knew Loki _must_ be hiding his pain. His brother had perfected the art of hiding his true emotions- but Thor knew him well enough to, at the very least, guess the extent of the pain he was locking away.

_I will crack that shell of yours, brother. Somehow, I will help you heal._

And with that promise to himself, Thor joined the dark haired god in sleep.

* * *

Loki awoke first- the crack of lightening outside causing the younger god to jolt out of his slumber, eyes looking around the dark barn wildly.

He had not expected to sleep so deeply. Already, with his magic unbound and growing stronger, he could feel his wounds beginning to mend. It would be a long process, with his powers so weakened, but he would return to full strength- physically and magically- in time.

His throat burned- the blood he had swallowed coupled with the parched, dry feeling of not having water in what felt like a week, perhaps more, had not done him any favors. The sound of rain battering the worn shelter spurred the weakened god into action. Crawling to his feet- foot, for his injured leg had yet to mend enough to support him- the trickster slowly made his way to the barn doors.

He could swear Thor's snoring was as loud as the thunder outside. At least he wouldn't be fussing over Loki, much to his relief. Hay clung to his clothes and skin, itching considerably, but the god ignored it quite easily. His only thought was to get outside, to the torrential rain pouring beyond the doors.

He snorted, seeing the large break in the door that Thor had impatiently smashed. Of course the idiot would not think to _slide_ the door open- that appeared to be a task which exceeded his companion's mental abilities.

Ignoring the hole, Loki opened the large door as it was meant to be, sliding it open just enough that he could slip through. Quite literally- it appeared rain had leaked through the jagged hole, creating a slippery puddle of mud and straw that had the trickster landing on his knees outside.

He caught himself on his hands, balancing just above the ground, he didn't want to think how the impact would have aggravated his wounds. His stitched lips turned upwards briefly- it was good to see his reflexes and strength slowly returning. He turned his head upwards, looking into the dark clouds hanging above, his limbs trembling as the rain drops hit his face. The grime and blood that had stained his skin for so long was slowly being rinsed away- the raindrops falling onto his lips and seeping through into his waiting mouth.

The god swallowed greedily, in spite of the after taste in the water that hinted at midgardian pollution, his throat burning for more than the few measly drops that seemed to make him more thirsty, rather than provide relief. He dimly hoped for the rain to pour faster, harder- anything to ensure he received more. Curse the blasted stitches!

His clothes were now completely soaked through, and his Jotun blood remained his only defense against the chill that washed through him with every gust of the wind. But he refused to return inside- not until this blasted dryness in his throat disappeared!

With each tiny gulp he could feel himself growing the smallest bit stronger, his skin prickling the faintest bit with the familiar sensation of magic. He dared not test it just yet- even the simplest use of his power could leave him drained completely once more. Loki would be patient, though he _itched_ to heal himself completely.

Grunting angrily, the god allowed a few more drops to seep between his lips, before picking himself up and returning inside the barn to meet Thor's cacophonous snoring.

* * *

The process of awakening for Thor was slow and difficult- his limbs did not seem to want to move, nor did his mind seem to want to release its last hold on sleep. A low groan worked its way up his throat, his fist raising to rub his groggy eyes. This was a process that met Thor every time he woke from unconsciousness- the god was a very deep sleeper, even in his youth.

_How long have I been asleep?_ he wonders tiredly, glancing around the barn. It took a few moments to realize where he was, and suddenly the day before came rushing back to him.

_Loki_... The thunderer looks around frantically, searching for his brother. But the trickster was no where to be found, and the door to the barn was open, a muddy red smear leading outside.

Thor was sure he had never been spurred into action so quickly, calling Mjolnir to his fist as he leaps to his feet, charging out of the barn. He gazes about wildly, unsuccessfully fighting down the panic clawing its way up his chest.

"LOKI!" the thunderer calls, his voice a loud boom that sends the herd of cows outside rushing away from the god.

"BROTHER, WHERE ARE YOU?"

He is about to search the outside of the barn, when he hears a muffled grunt coming from _inside_.

_But I was alone_- Thor thinks, baffled, before returning to the interior of the shelter.

"Brother-?" He asks, holding Mjolnir ready in case of an ambush.

In the darkest corner of the barn, he sees a shadow of movement, before his brother's face enters the sliver of light coming from the hole in the barn door- looking exceedingly cross.

"Ah..." Thor looks rather sheepish. "My apologies, brother. I awoke, and saw the blood..."

The god of mischief rolls his eyes, leaning back against the straw with a scathing look strong enough that Thor could practically imagine the god's voice saying _You idiot._

Thor sat down heavily, next to Loki who looked rather annoyed at the close proximity.

"You've been outside." It wasn't a question, but the god nodded anyways. His hair was damp, slicked back into a roughly similar shape that he used to wear it in.

Not to mention his clothes, wet and clinging to his form like a second skin. Thor wondered if his brother was chilly- but then dismissed the thought. He had seen his brother remain comfortable in much colder conditions- it would take more than damp clothes to bring a shiver to his frame.

He was pleased to see some of the grime had rinsed away, though the worst of it remained. He knew his brother must be annoyed with the dirt, straw, and blood caking his skin- he had always been much neater than Thor.

"You need a bath, brother." Thor observed, earning himself a harsh swat- stronger than the few he had received the day before. His brother was gaining his strength back- no doubt much more quickly with his magic at hand.

He wished he knew where in Midgard they were- it would be beneficial to know if they were close enough to friends. Jane, or the Avengers.

_You think they would help? After everything Loki has done?_

But if he explained the situation, then perhaps...

_You know Loki would refuse. _

Then he would have to convince Loki to allow Thor to find help. They could not stay in this barn forever. And Thor would do whatever necessary to shield his brother from further harm.

* * *

**A/N: How was it? I hope it was alright, I did try to meet all of your expectations!**

**We'll get to the action soon enough, I promise. Call this the... calm before the storm. **

**Review, my lovely readers! You make writing fun and rewarding for me!**

**Flames will be used to light Odin's hair on fire.**


	8. Chapter Seven

**DISCLAIMER:**** I do not own Thor, the Avengers, or any of the characters. I'd like to think only the plot itself belongs to me, though even that is heavily influenced by the movies. Only thing I own is the television I used to watch them and the computer I use to write this thing.**

**WARNINGS****: None.**

* * *

CHAPTER SEVEN

* * *

Thor paced aimlessly through the barn, his thoughts impatient and frustrated.

They had rested there for two days, and it appeared Loki's magic would take a while yet to return to full strength. The wait was slowly killing the thunderer, he was sure, for there was nothing he could do to alleviate his utter boredom without annoying Loki.

He could not even converse with his brother, for pity's sake. And holding a one-sided conversation made Thor feel both a fool and desperate, not to mention every time he attempted to speak more than two sentences his brother would silently hush him with a glare and a finger to his stitched lips.

It had appeared at first that Loki was sleeping. Thor had thought this odd, since he was sure sleeping while sitting up couldn't be at all relaxing. But now, after watching his brother sit in that position for hours on end, the thunder god now presumed his brother to be meditating.

Not the kind the Midgardians were familiar with, and used to calm their minds and bodies. Thor was certain Loki was attempting to center his magic, and perhaps speed its return as well- if the faint prickle in the air that sent goose flesh across his skin was any indication.

So now Thor was stuck, pacing for what must have been the thousandth time that day as he waited for some sign or signal from his brother that they could move on. It was maddening, and Thor's normally short patience was strained considerably. He needed to move, needed to act, to do _something_ besides waiting.

_Selfish. _

Thor abruptly felt guilty. This was not about his entertainment- what mattered was that his brother _healed_. The thunderer was being impatient, itching for a break from the monotony of waiting. But he knew it must be worse for his brother- with no voice and little magic. If Thor was hungry for things to return to normal, Loki must be _starving_ for it. Quite literally, he thought with a remorseful frown. As soon as those stitches came off, Thor would ensure his brother had something to eat.

With a deep sigh, he continued pacing, lost in his own thoughts that seemed to revolve around the god sitting not five feet away. He lost track of time, the repetitious sound of his footsteps muffled by the straw beneath his feet.

A light tap to his shoulder sent the thunderer calling for Mjölnir and raising the mighty hammer to strike at his attacker.

As soon as his eyes caught the unamused face of his brother, Thor halted his swing, slowly lowering the weapon with a cough. He had remained in once place for so long that his pent-up energy had come surging out in his surprise.

"Ah-" Thor cleared his throat. "My apologies, broth- _brother!_"

Thor could scarcely believe his eyes. His brother's once scarred and dirty face was clean and healed, the thread binding his lips had vanished completely.

"By the Nine..." Thor could scarcely contain his glee. "You've done it! You've removed those foul stitches and-"

His triumphant litany was halted by a firm shake of Loki's head.

"Brother-?"

With a flick of Loki's fingers, the sight melted away, revealing his stitched lips and scarred face once more.

Thor visibly deflated, a sigh passing his lips. "...I see. You only hid them."

It wasn't a question, but Loki nodded regardless, remaining silent. Thor now knew it was merely a mask his brother had worn, woven by his magic to hide his rather unsettling visage. And though it had appeared his brother had removed the cord, Thor understood it must still keep his brother from uttering a word, hidden or not.

But it wasn't all bad, Thor realized. With the disguise in place, Thor would be able to take Loki with him to find his friends without upsetting any Midgardians they might come into contact with.

"Brother, with your magic hiding your face, we can now travel away from here."

It sounded horrible the way Thor had said it, but Loki either did not mind his choice of words, or hid it well. Knowing his brother, it would most likely be the latter.

"Are you well enough to walk?" Thor knew Loki would _hate_ to be carried again, but the thunderer did not mind, one way or another.

A brief nod was his only answer, and Thor grinned, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Then replace the disguise, and we shall leave this itchy shelter for good!"

Loki rolled his eyes, ensuring the magical illusion was securely in place. His magic had built enough that using such a guise did not strain his reserves too much, but he would not take any chances and have it accidentally slip.

_Oh, the chaos such an incident would cause._

With that thought, Loki smirked, following the thunder god out of the barn.

* * *

The trek was long and arduous, made difficult by the fact that Thor had absolutely no idea _where_ on Midgard they were, and Loki had no way of telling him one way or another. Thor refused to fly, as he had no wish to see how it would affect Loki's injuries. But the trickster was content to lead, finding shallow amusement in the way Thor would look around as if searching hopelessly for some beacon of civilization. Which, no doubt, he was.

Now that Loki did not have to put up with Thor's pitying gaze when the thunderer had caught glimpse of his stitches, he was in a far better mood.

Of course, his mood had been utterly rotten to begin with, so that wasn't saying much. He was still irritated, aching, and desperate for water and food. His more grievous wounds would flare with pain if he turned a certain way or took too deep of a breath, and he would grow even more frustrated when his injured leg would cause him to stumble and falter.

But in spite of his many pains, Loki knew his pride to be hurt the most. And that, more than anything, made the mischief god furious.

"Could you not have landed us somewhere more..."

_Civilised_?

"Populated?"

Loki scoffed, rolling his eyes. His brother had no idea the effort Loki had put forth to ensure they didn't float around aimlessly in the void between realms, much less find a suitable place to appear, in his condition! He ought to be grateful Loki didn't land them in the ocean! Didn't the oaf realise-

"Brother- look!"

_What now?_

Just above the horizon, Loki squinted and thought he could see the faint outline of a Midgardian building.

_Finally!_

Thor's positively beamed with excitement, and began to run ahead, Loki trying to keep up.

_Thor! Fool, slow down!_

Of course, Loki had no way of calling to him aside from a muffled yell, but his brother heard him just the same, turning around and spotting the trickster standing with his arms crossed some twenty feet back.

"Come Loki, we're almost there!" Thor returned to his side, but when Loki refused to move (_I will not run after him like a buffoon!_) Thor tossed him over his shoulder- carefully- and ignoring his brother's snarl, set off at a jog towards the town.

* * *

They arrived much sooner than they would have had Thor not been running like a madman (as Loki thought of it). Thank the Nine his brother thought to set him down before any Midgardians saw them. Loki refused to be seen being carried like a bride over his brother's shoulder!

It was a small town, and looked more like a traveler's rest stop than an actual place of residence. On one corner sat a basic bed and breakfast, next to which was a fuel stop. A rather ramshackle grocery mart stood inelegantly beside a diner, and a motel and sheriff's department completed the town.

Loki scoffed, crossing his arms as he observed their surroundings. It would suffice, for now. But he didn't have to be pleased with it.

Thor was oblivious to his brother's discomfort, eagerly dragging him towards the diner. Thoughts of food were on the thunderer's mind, and he refused to be deterred.

The waitress at the bar gave them odd looks as they entered, giving Thor a once-over and raising an eyebrow at his Asgardian armor. Loki received much the same look, though her eyes did look slightly alarmed, seeing the rips and blood on his tunic.

"Cosplay convention..." she muttered to herself, looking like she didn't believe her own words. Straightening up, she moved to the table Thor had chosen, clearing her throat.

"Can I get you two anything? A drink?"

Loki kicked Thor's shin under the table, taking slight satisfaction in his brother's tiny wince.

"Ah, yes. That would be most welcome. Water and ale, thank you."

"We don't serve alcohol here..." she frowned, giving Thor an incredulous look. She placed a menu carefully on the table. Thor flipped through it carelessly.

"Some of this... three plates of that... absolutely none of that." Thor pointed distastefully at the salad menu. Loki rolled his eyes.

As Thor continued to order, the waitresses eyes widened further, and she turned to Loki.

"A-anything for you, sir?"

Loki read the menu his brother held, shaking his head. He would be unable to eat until the stitches were removed, much to his displeasure.

"I'll... just bring those waters out then." She quickly took the menu away before Thor could order anything else.

The god of thunder looked disappointed, but Loki was simply glad to see her go. He wanted to drink the water, find a map, and _leave_ this blasted place.

As soon as the glasses were set on the table, the trickster snatched his, pressing the rim to his lips as he tried to drink but it _was not fast enough_.

"D-does he need a straw-?" The woman asked Thor quietly, who looked perplexed.

"'_Straw'_? I'm afraid I do not understand."

She looked at him like he was crazy, but pulled the paper-wrapped straw from one of her apron pockets, placing it in front of Loki.

The god ripped the paper from the plastic tube, impatiently dropping it in the glass and attempting to slide the other end between his stitches. He could feel them pull uncomfortably, and he was sure it must look strange to the waitress as Loki fumbled with a seemingly imaginary obstacle on his lips, but finally he got the blasted object through and the god took his first full sip of water in months.

Thor tried not to look at his brother pityingly as the trickster drained one, then two, then three glasses of water in what Thor was sure could have only been half a minute. He felt rather bad for the poor waitress who watched with wide eyes and attempted to process how fast Loki was able to drain the glasses. Thor sent her away for more, disliking the look she was giving his brother.

_Like he's some sort of freak_.

That certainly did not make Thor happy, but he supposed he should be grateful that the trickster did not notice her incredulous look. No doubt Loki would do something to frighten her further. Like removing his guise.

It was obvious, even now, that the water was doing his brother well. His eyes had begun to faintly glimmer with the fraction of his power he had gotten back. The stiffness in his brother's shoulders, no doubt from pain, was beginning to relax once more into Loki's characteristic grace.

Thor gave his brother a supportive smile, prompting an eye-roll from the younger. Loki finished his current glass, removing the straw from between his hidden stitches. The stickiness in his mouth and throat had, for the most part, been washed away with the water- much to the god's relief.

The waitress brought back new water and a part of Thor's massive order, watching with wide eyes as he practically inhaled his food. Loki gave her an annoyed glance as she continued to stand there, and shooed her away. The woman was on his nerves.

Loki was certain he had consumed at least seven glasses of water, and though the parched feeling in his throat had not gone away yet, he forced himself to take a break. It would do no good to vomit the water up later, and he didn't wish to think what an ordeal _that_ would be, with his stitches. He watched with hidden envy as Thor ate. He knew he really shouldn't be so petty about it- one of them at least, needed to be at full strength. But those waffles looked quite delicious...

_Stop it_, Loki scolded himself. _There will be time enough eventually, once the stitches are removed._

_If_ they could be removed. He had surmised long ago that the cord was enchanted. And though Loki was inherently powerful, it would take quite a bit of will to remove them without the use of his voice.

Perhaps he could find another way. All in due time, he supposed.

"D-do you wish to pay the bill now, or after your friend finishes?"

_Pay-... Oh damn it Thor!_

* * *

**A/N: Slightly longer chapter. Hopefully it will satisfy until the next update!  
**

**Review? I adore your feedback! **


	9. Chapter Eight

**DISCLAIMER:**** I do not own Thor, the Avengers, or any of the characters. I'd like to think only the plot itself belongs to me, though even that is heavily influenced by the movies. Only thing I own is the television I used to watch them and the computer I use to write this thing.**

**WARNINGS****: Invisible-stripping in a retail store? Otherwise, nothing.****  
**

* * *

CHAPTER EIGHT

* * *

The waitress had no opportunity to flee running and screaming- for as soon as Loki's illusion dropped with a stitched grin and his blood red Jotun eyes appeared, the woman collapsed in a dead faint, terror apparent in her features even in unconsciousness. Oh, Thor gave him a reproachful look, but it had none the less been worth it.

He motioned for Thor to hurry up, as he had no intention of remaining there longer than they needed to, and he wasn't keen on the woman waking up with them in the vicinity. Loki would find a map and they would leave, here one moment and gone the next like ghosts in the wind.

At least, he hoped it would be that easy. But his adopted sibling _did_ have a penchant for being overly loud and obnoxious. He would have to hope that Thor made an effort to control his volume and tongue _for once_.

As soon as the last crumb had disappeared from the thunder god's plate, Loki was dragging him out of his seat and towards the exit.

The trickster, ignoring the motel and grocer, headed straight for the fuel stop. Surely they, out of everyone else, would have some sort of navigational device.

Deciding it would be better for everyone if Thor remained outside, Loki did his best to silently convey to his brother to _sit, stay, and don't touch anything!_ It appeared to work, for the thunder god waved his brother away and began to read the flyers outside the shack-sized building.

_As long as he stays away from the fuel pumps_. No doubt his brother would think of them as ale-dispensers or some such nonsense.

He could hear a person in the back, shuffling around. Loki resolved to find what he was looking for and get out before the man appeared. He really did not feel like trying to communicate with any other pathetic mortals until the stitches were out.

A few maps lay jumbled in a magazine holder on the far wall, and the god of lies swiftly plucked one from the stack, tucking it inside his ripped tunic. He would look at it once they were out of the town. Giving the rest of the merchandise a once-over, Loki saw nothing else worth stealing in the vicinity. Pity.

As he had expected, Thor was busy inspecting the gasoline pumps with a puzzled expression. With a roll of his eyes, the mute god grabbed his brother's cape and pulled him away, ignoring his startled protest. The thunderer was disappointed he could not observe the strange devices longer, but he firmly reminded himself that they weren't here for his amusement.

Thor followed his brother who stalked ahead, already past the borders of the town and looking down at a large wrinkled paper. He hurried ahead, looking over Loki's shoulder at the many lines and dots marking the strange paper. He couldn't seem to make sense of any of it, but Loki's eyes scanned the print with complete comprehension.

"Brother, what is that?"

The dark haired god glanced over his shoulder, eyebrow raised in such a way that made Thor feel a fool for even asking. Of course his brother could not answer his question verbally.

But Loki, giving a muffled sigh, pointed his finger firmly at one sector of the map, then motioned around them. When Thor only blinked, the trickster snarled, doing it once again but more forcefully this time.

"You mean to say- we, are there?" He nodded to the map.

A firm nod was his answer, and Thor's eyes lit up. He had seen a few maps scattered in the library on Asgard, but they had been mere sketches. Nothing like the jumble of colors and lines and dots that littered the page Loki held. But now that the god understood its purpose, he studied it with more focus this time.

"Where do we go next?"

Loki folded the map neatly, tucking it back within the rips of his tunic. As soon as he had gestured the direction, Thor grabbed his brother by the waist and used Mjölnir to fly them due east.

It would be a relatively short trip.

* * *

They stopped to rest outside of Denver. They both needed more inconspicuous clothing, and Thor predictably wanted to get another bite to eat.

Loki felt reasonably sure he could manage to cloak the pair for long enough that they could sneak inside one of the stores and snatch some Midgardian clothes. His brother had protested, but eventually saw the necessity of such an act and allowed the trickster to weave his magic around them. It felt strange to Thor, like the air around him had turned to water, shifting and rippling against his skin in a cool caress. It was an odd sensation that the thunder god would prefer never to need to feel again, but he allowed it for now.

The god hung back and let Loki pick their replacement garments. He had no idea where his brother had taken the time to become familiar with Midgardian fashion- for even in his last journey to the human realm, when Thor had been captured by SHIELD, his brother had been wearing a mortal suit. He resolved to ask the trickster another time, as he _was_ rather curious.

He wondered exactly _how much_ of the area around them his brother was cloaking, for even as clothes moved off the racks and garments unfolded themselves, the mortal shoppers did not appear to notice anything amiss. Loki occasionally tossed an article of clothing at Thor, who did not hesitate to strip out of his armor and replace it with the mortal garb. He would chuck the armor back at his brother, who vanished it with a flick of his fingers, before going to grab another item.

It continued much in this same way until Thor was fully clothed and Loki not far behind. The thunderer had to admit, his brother _did_ have decent taste, even under the pressure of maintaining the magic shroud around them. Thor would have grabbed the first things he could find, and very likely made a fool of himself in the process.

His brother was straining, Thor could tell, and he wasted no time in throwing on the last article before practically fleeing the store- pausing only to silence the alarm systems by the doors. Thor was not far behind, and followed the trickster without question as he ducked into a cramped alley outside and released the veil around them.

Loki was breathing heavily through his nose, leaning against the wall for a moment and purposefully ignoring Thor's concerned gaze. He glanced down at the hammer in the thunderer's fist, sighing as he used the last dregs of his magic to disguise it as a briefcase. The thunder god looked affronted for about two seconds before relenting, understanding the necessity of such concealment.

With a quiet sigh Loki stood back up, only faltering slightly. The trickster pulled himself together, appearing to focus inwards briefly as if centering himself. Which Thor surmised he was probably doing just that. Once the god had collected himself, he left the alley with the thunderer following close behind, and to any outsider they appeared completely normal. That suited them just fine.

"Brother, I suggest we dine and decide on a course of action." Thor told the god, who nodded briefly at him in agreement. He would tell Loki of his idea to find his friends during that time.

And with that plan in mind, Thor eagerly directed his brother to the first steakhouse in sight.

* * *

**A/N: A shorter chapter this time. Apologies! **

**Review? I appreciate every one, and your feedback is the chocolate chips to my cookies! As in, my stories are the cookies, and... oh forget it.**


	10. Chapter Nine

**DISCLAIMER:**** I do not own Thor, the Avengers, or any of the characters. I'd like to think only the plot itself belongs to me, though even that is heavily influenced by the movies. Only thing I own is the television I used to watch them and the computer I use to write this thing.**

**WARNINGS****: None.  
**

* * *

CHAPTER NINE

* * *

The palace in Asgard was the most dangerous place to be in that realm at the moment.

Sif was running out of places to take cover, much to her great annoyance. Volstagg had already claimed four banquet tables as his shields and had long since vanished within the makeshift fort, which seemed to waver and balance precariously as the floors and walls vibrated with energy.

Fandral was last seen with his current lover fleeing the palace completely. (_"I'll be on Vanaheim if you need me-!"_) and she had not caught glimpse of Hogun since the first quake had begun.

The female warrior was doing her very best to be on the _opposite_ end of the castle from which the Allfather and his wife argued. _Battled_.

Never, ever had Sif heard the gentle-mannered Queen raise her voice, or a hand, to anyone. It was simply unimaginable. And yet, when she had caught glimpse of the woman last, the Queen had been sending blasts of magic and hurling any object in sight at her husband. (Sif had seen the woman take one of the guard's _spears_ and send it flying like a javelin, for pity's sake!)

Her ears were beginning to hurt as well, with all the shouting.

She only caught a few words here and there- "Loki" and "torture" and "bastard husband of mine!", but it was enough to give the warrior an idea of the cause of the Queen's fury.

Thor was missing entirely, something that greatly confused Sif. Should he not be here, attempting to calm his mother?

There was only one person in all the Nine Realms and beyond that Odin would never dare raise a weapon to- so it was all he could do to simultaneously dodge and try to talk his wife down from her rage. Oh, he was furious she had found out about Loki- and the Allfather was positive Thor had something to do with the matter. The guards had combed the palace and rest of Asgard thrice-over in search of the missing gods, but had turned up with nothing.

The warriors who had been guarding his cell at the time remembered nothing but a "great thundering pain", or at least that was how the one who'd _survived_ put it.

Heimdall had seen neither hide nor hair of the King's sons, and that thought alone disturbed the Allfather.

_Is Loki somehow strong enough to shield them both?_ _Even in his condition?_

It could not be Thor. For all of his power, none of it came from magical abilities. Even his command of storms had been granted through his bond with Mjölnir. No doubt _somehow_ it was Loki hiding them from the Gatekeeper's gaze.

But Odin was sound in the knowledge that while his son could be once more in the possession of his magic, he would be unable to gain back his voice. The Allfather had enchanted the cords binding the trickster's lips himself- there was no plausible way he would be able to remove them.

His sons would be in a great deal of trouble when they were either found or chose to return home. And Odin would not make the same mistake he had the first time, with Loki. As he dodged a wicked-looking mace skimming dangerously close to his beard- _Frigga!_- Odin vowed that for his youngest son there would be no second escape.

* * *

Thor was beginning to think that Loki's favorite word was _no_.

Of course, he couldn't speak it out loud, per say. But if the thunderer knew his brother- which he liked to think he did- the expression on his face was one that quite clearly stated his emphatic opinion on the matter.

"Brother... now I know you and my mortal friends do not exactly see eye-to-eye," Fist-to-fist would be far more accurate. "But the idea _does_ have some merit. We cannot continue to drift through Midgard forever. Eventually, the humans will notice something is amiss! Then where will we be?"

The chill of the glare Loki sent him had the exact opposite effect the trickster had hoped it would; Thor's resolve seemed to be that much stronger under the withering stare. The thunderer tried a different angle of approach.

"Your magic would hasten its return if you remained somewhere safe-" here, Loki gave a muffled scoff. "Do you not wish to remove those stitches as quickly as possible?"

Green eyes avoided Thor's own for the briefest moment, but it was long enough for the god to catch and pounce on triumphantly.

"My friends can help with that! Perhaps one of Stark's strange instruments could be of use, or Banner's scientific expertise," he hedged. Loki simply looked aghast at the thought of letting either of them anywhere close to his mouth.

"Couldn't we at least _try_? If you feel unsafe, then I will not hesitate to get you out of there. My duty is to yourself now, above all else."

_Now, perhaps_. _And what of later? Your loyalty is like smoke, Thor, here one moment and gone the next._

"_Please_, Loki. It has been nearly a year since you were last on Midgard. Certainly enough time for tempers to cool."

_You are one to talk of tempers, brother._

But the trickster simply raised an eyebrow and studiously ignored his brother.

Thor did not receive an immediate answer. Loki spent the entire meal brooding over his glass of water- apparently indifferent to any outsider who cared to look. But not Thor. He recognized the storms brewing behind his brother's eyes easily enough, though he suspected Loki was allowing him to see them, or perhaps simply did not care. The thunderer had no doubt his brother could hide his emotions effortlessly. For was he not the _god_ of masks and lies?

A crash of thunder sounded outside, and Thor glimpsed great black clouds rolling in the sky through the window beside their booth. Strange, had there not been clears skies when they had landed outside the city earlier?

_Perhaps I simply did not notice_.

He could see the few mortals scattered through the restaurant noticeably quicken their pace, having food placed in those ingenious black boxes before paying and fleeing as hastily as possible. No doubt wishing to avoid being stuck in the oncoming storm.

Thinking that was a sound idea, Thor followed suit, looking as if he wished to pack the remainder of his many orders into the Styrofoam packages. Loki took the option away from the thunderer, vanishing their table entirely before standing. The thunder god caught his brother's eyes, and a firm nod from the younger prompted a smile to form on the god's face.

"You will not regret this decision, brother! I swear it!"

* * *

Loki stole a car.

Quite possibly the fastest, and Thor had to admit, most handsome one in the Midgardian dealership. Thor would have balked at the idea of simply _taking it_ if he had not been so eager to travel by the odd, but comfortable mechanical steeds once again. Loki had vehemently refused to fly, not with the threat of the rain above and the unnatural clouds that seemed to stretch on past the horizon.

The trickster stared at the dials, buttons, and pedals for all of three seconds before stalking into the dealership, returning not ten minutes later with a salesman in tow. Thor was unsure exactly _what_ his brother had done to the man... the mortal looked hazy-eyed and dazed- and yet he was eager to climb into the driver's seat, Loki beside him. The thunderer had been disappointed when the younger god banished him to the back seat.

"Brother, are you quite sure this is legal?"

The smile Loki gave the elder brother silenced him effectively. The mortal man buckled himself into the seat, though Loki and Thor did not bother, and with a turn of the keys and change of the gears they were speeding out of the lot and onto the road.

The thunder god was nearly positive they had been driving for several hours. Had Loki not been cloaking the car, they would have been pulled over numerous times for speeding, ignoring red lights, crossing over medians and _nearly_ hitting a couple that had been crossing the road in one of the cities they had passed through. Loki flicked them out of the way in time, but it had been close enough that Thor's heart was hammering long after the incident occurred.

About halfway through the trip, the thunder god shouted at Loki to make the salesman stop the car. It was quite obvious the mortal was ill, his skin was sallow and his hands shaking- but his eyes remained a bright, eerie shade of green that seemed uncannily similar to Loki's.

And his brother did not appear to be tiring at all, even though the thunderer was positive the younger god had held the cloaking illusion around the car for hours and had simultaneously redirected any traffic in their path innumerable times. The god did not understand why his brother remained alert and strong, and though he should have been glad, something about the situation did not sit right with the thunderer.

* * *

The mortal would expire soon.

Loki could feel it as if an extension of himself- the thread of the man's life had been strained for hours as Loki siphoned bit after bit of his energy to replenish his magic.

The god had not wanted it to come to such an end- he had never been fond of that particular branch of sorcery. But the seduction he had woven around the man in the dealership had slowly waned the longer they remained in the vehicle, and if Loki had not acted so quickly, the mortal would have returned to his senses and panicked.

And the god had no interest in being part of a crash in his weakened state.

Even as they passed the borders of several states, the black clouds above had not disappeared, and the thunder sounded _wrong_. He did not like the idea of flying in that kind of storm. It had yet to rain, but that did not lessen the danger in the trickster's mind. He was certain they were the consequence of outside interference in another realm, and that thought alone set the mischief god uncomfortably on edge.

Loki directed the man to pull over. His energy was nearly spent- any longer under the drain of Loki's magic and the mortal's heart would fail.

Not something he imagined Thor would appreciate.

Besides, the god had watched the man drive for long enough that his understanding of the Midgardian vehicle had risen considerably; and he was reasonably sure he would be able to take over.

They parked outside a rest stop. Loki silently directed the man into the building with a flick of his fingers, only removing the drain once he had disappeared inside. With any luck, the mortal would fall unconscious and awaken only after the two gods had long since disappeared.

"Fare thee well, friend!" Thor waved, predictably cheerful and oblivious. Loki rolled his eyes, swiftly moving into the seat the mortal previously occupied. He did not bother waiting for the thunderer to move to the front, shifting the vehicle into drive and speeding away once more.

_Let us make it to the Iron Man's tower before the clouds descend upon us._

* * *

**A/N: And the storm approaches! I must admit, I _really_ enjoyed imagining Frigga throwing dangerous objects at the Allfather. Although, that certainly isn't the last we see of him. He will play a key role in this story, I assure you.**

**This story also has a cover now! Not very good, I literally took ten minutes to throw it together. Heh- erm...**

**Review? I am truly addicted to all of your feedback! **


	11. Chapter Ten

**DISCLAIMER:**** I do not own Thor, the Avengers, or any of the characters. I'd like to think only the plot itself belongs to me, though even that is heavily influenced by the movies. Only thing I own is the television I used to watch them and the computer I use to write this thing.**

**WARNINGS****: Cursing.**

* * *

CHAPTER TEN

* * *

Tony Stark was- to put it simply- having a very unsatisfactory day.

First, and at the forefront of his mind- Pepper was angry with him. Again. And for no good reason!

Alright, so he slept through a Stark Industries board meeting for the third time that week. He'd had a hangover, did that mean nothing to the woman?

_It's your own fault for consuming so much alcohol, _a voice in his mind which he had taken to calling his 'Pepper-conscience' reminded him. Yes, well, what was he supposed to do with his shiny new tequila bar? Stare at it? Tony scoffs to himself. Right.

Then he caught SHIELD attempting to hack Jarvis again. The artificial intelligence was practically his _baby_, his pride and joy, his masterpiece. Absolutely no way in hell would Tony allow that to happen.

It had taken more effort than usual- SHIELD's hackers were getting better. But Stark prided himself on being the world's best genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist, and he would never allow lesser intelligences to get the better of him.

Of course, he wouldn't be Tony Stark if he didn't have a little fun in the process, right? So, he had left a- relatively- harmless virus on SHIELD's mainframe. Anything from sending a message to hacking to opening a link led to a lovely little picture of Stark in a playboy bunny suit being plastered on the interface.

Pepper hadn't been amused by that, either.

And, of course, Tony did the only thing he could think of to fix the problem.

He took a nap.

Wrong move, apparently. He had forgotten about his and Pepper's date later that evening, and slept through it. Oh, his girlfriend had been _seething_ mad. He had woken to his cell ringing, Black Sabbath, of course. As soon as he answered, he was being yelled at- the usually mellow red head pushed too far. He had been unable to explain, her rant containing no pauses or breaks- didn't the woman need to _breathe?_- complete with the promise that as soon as she returned to Stark Tower he would be begging for forgiveness.

Apparently, "Ooh, kinky." had been the wrong answer to that statement.

Oh, Tony knew he was in deep trouble now. As soon as Pepper returned, he would be drowning in it. Fully aware that he was a dead man, Tony intended to spend his last hours making good use of his personal drink bar.

After all, if he was to meet his fate at the hands of his irate girlfriend, he might as well be pleasantly buzzed. Leaving his rooms, Tony stumbled his way down to his bar, fully intent on drinking himself into a stupor.

The expression on his face was comical, as he stared in shock at the figure leaning against the counter, drinking from a bottle of-

_That's _my_ alcohol!_

"Thor?! Wh-what-"

"Ah, friend Stark! I wondered when you would awake!"

How the hell did the big guy get past JARVIS? Thor was the complete opposite of stealth- and there was no way in _hell_ he could manage to hack the most advanced artificial intelligence in the world. The guy could barely switch on a television.

Tony was reminded of just how _long_ it had been since the god had vanished back to his magical shining city in the sky with the world's most devastating super-villain in tow. Nearly ten months had passed since the Chitauri army _obliterated_ Manhattan and much of New York. Ten months since Stark nearly got himself nuked in space.

Strange how it still felt like yesterday.

And Thor looked very different since Tony had last seen the guy. For one, the guy was wearing normal-people clothing, no cape or armor in sight. But his face had changed as well.

His beard looked slightly longer, thicker. Like he hadn't shaved in a week or more. And his eyes looked tired, heavy. Not quite as bright. The thunderer's demeanor remained much the same, cheerful, upbeat. But his eyes said otherwise.

"How'd you get in here? Jarvis detected no intruders, or he would have woken me."

Thor took a long swig, and Tony really couldn't stay mad at him for basically stealing his alcohol. He seemed like he was going through more hell than Tony.

"Ah, you see my friend... I have something to tell you."

Uh-oh. This couldn't be good. "Big daddy ground you again?" Best to set the bar low.

"Nay. Though I fear banishment will be the least of my worries should I attempt to return to Asgard any time soon."

Shit. "Not all of the big, bad aliens got nuked?"

"No, I am quite certain the Chitauri are gone now."

Well, at least that's _some_ good news.

"I may be a genius, but I don't think I want to continue to guess. Why don't you just tell me what's got you drinking me out of house and liquor and save us both the trouble?"

Thor sighed, sliding the now-empty bottle across the bar. "Very well, man of iron. Loki?"

Tony had zero time to react as the shadow in the corner beside Thor appeared to _split_ apart, revealing none other than baby brother himself.

"Oh _shit_-" Before Stark could flee- he really ought to wear his Iron Man suit at home- Thor was at his side, placing a bracing hand on the man's shoulder.

"Calm yourself, Stark! There is no threat-"

"_No threat?!_"

"It will do no good to panic yourself!"

"Reindeer games is in my _tower-!"_

"Aye. And he threatens you not. See?"

It took a moment for Tony to register Thor's words and _look_, but one glance at silent and deadly revealed the god perched on a bar stool, chin resting on his fist as he looked at the billionaire with a very bored expression.

Tony visibly sagged in defeat- no amount of squirming succeeded in getting him out of Thor's rock-like grip. And it didn't appear like Loki was any threat- for the moment.

The thunderer released him finally, and Stark took the opportunity to drag a stool as far away from the mischief god and sit down.

"Alright. You have three seconds to tell me how the hell you managed to fool Jarvis and why you're in my house. Start talking."

Thor and Loki shared a _look_, and it almost appeared as if the two were communicating telepathically, though Tony doubted it. Thor nodded briefly, before turning to the man.

"He cannot speak, Stark."

"Bullshit."

"Pardon?"

"Oh never mind. It's an expression. What do you mean, he can't speak? Don't tell me the guy is mute..."

"That is indeed the case."

Tony pinned both gods with a look of disbelief. "You can't be serious."

"I am most serious, my friend." Thor responded gravely. "Brother, perhaps you should-"

A firm shake of Loki's head interrupted the thunderer's speech.

"He will not understand otherwise!"

Tony could swear Loki's eyes were on fire as they glared at Thor. The god in turn gave him the most pleading expression Stark had ever seen on a person's face.

"Loki, it is the only way."

The trickster looked very much like he wished to hit Thor, but after a moment of furious internal debate, the god looked Stark square in the face and dropped his illusion.

Holy SHIT.

* * *

"I don't understand."

It had taken three glasses of vodka to temper the iron man's shock. And he had been shocked. Terrified, even. The abrupt appearance of Loki's stitches and scars nearly gave Tony a heart attack. Which was definitely saying something, since the man did not possess that particular organ any longer.

His words surprised Thor however, who was quite sure that Tony Stark was a genius among men. _The_ genius.

"Who would do something like that? _Why_? I understand the metal gag, sure. But- _this -?_"

The thunder god nodded gravely. "I agree, my friend. Such an act is barbaric beyond reason."

"Who did it? Please don't tell me it was Loki..." The god in question had excused himself from the room, leaving Tony and Thor alone.

"Nay. My father did this. Or at least, commissioned someone else to perform the stitching. I do not know, I was not there."

"His _father_?!" Now Stark was pissed. "I don't know how things are done on Asgard, but that is _cruel_ and _despicable_, no matter _where_ you live. Fathers are not allowed to do such horrible things to their children!"

Thor turned his face away, fury evident on his features. "Aye. But my father did."

"Did he do anything else?"

Thor gripped Mjölnir tightly, seeming to channel all of his anger into the hilt of the hammer. The disguise had yet to drop away, but Tony had already guessed the case to be the god's weapon. Any normal briefcase would have been crushed to dust from the force of the thunderer's grip.

"Yes." The god growled. "Though I do not know to what extent. There has not been time to inspect Loki's injuries properly. And I strongly suspect he would not allow it. He would see it as a breach of his privacy. A witness of his shame."

"It is not _shameful_-"

"But my brother would undoubtedly see it in that manner."

Tony sighed, scratching his beard roughly. This whole situation was completely fucked up.

"Have you tried to remove the stitches, at least?"

"My mother did, but the cord repelled any attempts at removal."

"Damn."

The god nodded in his agreement.

"But Loki's still magical, right?" He had to have been the one to cloak them from the sensors around the building.

"Yes. But he is weak still. I fear he had been denied any access to his magic from the moment he was imprisoned." Tony whistled.

"My friend," Thor sighed. "I must ask for your aid."

"Figured as much, big guy. Don't worry. I don't like it- this whole situation gives me the creeps. But right now, your brother isn't an international terrorist and mass murderer. He's someone who needs help."

Thor beamed at him, and the grin was so bright that Tony couldn't help but return it.

"Many thanks, my friend! I shall go tell my brother immediately-"

"But there are some rules."

"I... see."

Tony patted Thor's shoulder. "For now, don't worry about it. But later we will be going over them."

"Of course, friend. Thank you." The god shifted slightly, and Stark couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"Go to your brother, Thor-"

He was out of the room before the billionaire could finish his sentence.

* * *

**A/N: And enter the Iron** **Man!**

**A lot of dialogue this chapter. I hope it wasn't too bad!**

**Review? I love hearing your feedback and comments!**


	12. Chapter Eleven

**DISCLAIMER:**** I do not own Thor, the Avengers, or any of the characters. I'd like to think only the plot itself belongs to me, though even that is heavily influenced by the movies. Only thing I own is the television I used to watch them and the computer I use to write this thing.**

**Some mythology in this chapter. It may not be 100% accurate, and of course the timeline makes everything confusing, but it suits the purposes of this story. Apologies for any factual incorrections.**

**WARNINGS****: Some Odin bashing, but by this point in the story it should be obvious that he isn't really , and partiallynude!Loki, because we all love that, huh? Right?  
**

* * *

CHAPTER ELEVEN

* * *

Loki waited just outside, fingers idly pulling at his stitches while he waited.

He wondered whether the Iron Man would refuse them shelter. It would not surprise the trickster- he had been expecting a less-than-warm welcome from the moment they had entered the tower. The strange invisible guardian of Stark's abode had not the time to recognize their intrusion before Loki cloaked the pair completely.

Even weak as he felt, the sensation of using his magic- even for such a simple thing as temporary invisibility- was like water to a dying man. The time he'd spent empty and cold all the months of his imprisonment only sweetened the relief he felt with the power returning to his fingertips.

He cared not to hear the words undoubtedly being spoken in the room behind him. The knowledge that he was relying upon his elder brother for such a simple thing a _speaking_ wounded his pride. Loki was long since used to being self-sufficient. Independent. Even as children, where Thor craved attention, praise, and comfort from their parents- Loki had been content to go off on his own. Or at least, he had liked to pretend he was content.

The truth- one which Loki had a difficult time admitting to himself even- was that he had always been rather lonely. And far too proud to seek out the comfort he had secretly craved.

Not a lover's comfort. _That_ was easy enough to obtain for the trickster. Seductive words and manipulations had always been easy enough to spin. Second nature, even.

No, the god craved friendship. Companions. But on Asgard, every potential ally had flocked to his brother. The strong one, the brave one. The loyal and honest and handsome crown prince. Even their own _parents_ had preferred Thor. His father had taken to training the warrior in battle and politics with a zealousness that had left Loki feeling near constantly unwanted. And though Frigga had been more fair in her devotions, even she had given Thor more of her time.

A snarl forced its way past Loki's stitched lips. The one person who could have made Loki feel _proud_ of his magic rather than strength, had instead doted upon the perfect warrior prince. Frigga, though certainly not powerful, did possess some magic. But even she had not praised him for his own power. No one had, and most had done worse and mocked him for it.

And his family wondered why he had never felt like he belonged with them? Why he had chosen to fall off the Bifrost instead of return to their _loving arms_? The sheer stupidity of it all sent Loki's head reeling.

He had no family now. Even his children had been corrupted by Odin's foul _taint_. One to forever serve as his _pet_, his faithful, ignorant steed; another submerged under the waves and forced to choke on his own tail; the third banished to the rotting pits of Helheim to watch over the refuse that never made it to Valhalla; and the last impaled by the jaws to await Ragnarok.

The Allfather had ripped apart his family, had been content to let Loki rot beneath the golden halls of Asgard- and yet he had the gall to wonder why Loki refused to love him as a father!

Shaking his head roughly, the god forced the thoughts from his mind. He had better things to do than brood while Thor bargained for his sanctuary. Leaning back against the wall, Loki inhaled slowly, focusing in on his magic. With Thor as his bargaining chip, the trickster was sure to be in for a long wait.

* * *

A tap on his arm startled the god from his meditation. One look into the beaming expression on Thor's face told Loki all he needed to know, even before the thunderer opened his mouth to speak.

"We may now call Stark tower our temporary home, brother! Is that not grand?"

The god only quirked an eyebrow in answer. Well. It seemed he had underestimated the Iron Man. And more importantly, his own brother. He would not pretend the news did not give some comfort. They would be safe, for the moment. Able to rest and decide on a course of action. Perhaps his brother's idea to come to the Avenger for aid was not entirely foolish.

"That's right reindeer games. Although if big daddy decides to come down in a blaze of fire and brimstone, I'm making you two pay damage costs."

Thor gave a great laugh, and his hand clapped Stark on the shoulder. "Ah, your humor is truly unique, my friend!"

"I'm serious."

"Are there quarters in which me might rest? It has been a rather interesting few days..."

_That's certainly one way to put it._

"Yeah. And you might want to stay there for a bit. Pepper's going to be here any minute."

_Who?_

"Ah... then it might be best if we make a hasty retreat for now."

_I've a feeling I am missing some rather vital information._ Loki wasn't happy about that either.

The thunderer grabbed Loki's arm, and was going to make the "hasty retreat" a reality when Stark interrupted.

"And er, Prongs... if you would kindly undo whatever magical mute button you've placed on Jarvis, I'd appreciate it."

The blast of shrill noise coming from the irate AI was a fitting revenge for the nickname in Loki's humble opinion.

* * *

Jarvis had flat-out refused to offer the pair of gods any navigational aid. They were left to comb the tower for suitable quarters, which did take quite a bit of time as they could not rely on Tony for help. The genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist was running damage control with the artificial intelligence, while looking over his shoulder every three seconds to see if Pepper had returned.

The first suitable suite was claimed by Loki with a slam of the door before Thor could even think of taking it for himself. The thunderer sighed, leaving his brother to his devices. Surely he would find Thor if he required aid. Surely.

But the trickster had no such plans in mind. His usually chaotic thoughts had centered down to three simple things. _Bath, healing, _and _sleep_. Now that there was a chance of relaxation, the god of mischief intended to make full use of it. A part of him balked at the idea of even considering making himself comfortable here. He was in the home of one of the Avengers, for pity's sake. Had he truly gone so soft as to let his guard down, even in the seeming privacy of these rooms?

_Where else is there to be safe, if not here? _

Even through the thick walls of the building, Loki could hear the tumultuous thunder outside. At least they had made it before the storm grew worse.

It worried him, though. The clouds should have thinned out a while ago. But glancing out the window, he could see they were the exact same shade of inky black that they were in Colorado, more than halfway across North America. It didn't sit well with the trickster.

_Worry about it later._

Putting it firmly out of his mind, Loki made his way to the bathroom. Stark certainly liked his things to be grand, for even the guest suite was nearly as large as the ones in the palace on Asgard.

_Well, why not? The man is a genius among his kind. And humans do appear to worship the more intelligent of their brood as gods, in this age._

Smirking at that thought, Loki prepared the bath with something akin to glee. Had it really been months since he had last bathed? How disgusting.

And oh, the water was heaven. Divine in the way it caressed his skin, soothing his aches and washing the blood, sweat, and grime from his limbs. He did not know how long he rested in the tub, removing every trace of filth from his body. And gods, his hair! Several times he needed to drain the dirty water and fill the bath anew- but finally it remained clear, and he simply allowed himself to rest in the warm current.

A knock sounded at the door to what he was beginning to consider _his_ rooms, and he jolted out of his daze with narrowed eyes.

_If that's my brother come to disturb me, I swear I will vanish the precious beard from his face!_

He took his time, purposefully being slow as he dried himself and wrapped a towel round his waist. A pity his lips were bound, for he would have enjoyed giving his brother a verbal lashing for disturbing his well-deserved rest...

He jerked the door open, and nearly slammed it shut again in his shock. That was most _certainly_ not Thor outside his door.

A slight cough sounded from the other side. "My apologies, I did not intend to disturb your bath- Loki, correct?"

He had to give the woman credit, she did not seem to be fazed by the brief view she had caught of him in a towel.

_Perhaps the woman is used to Stark. He seems like the type to wander around half-naked on a daily basis._

Opening the door once more, Loki raised a slightly challenging eyebrow, stepping aside to let the red headed woman inside. A pity he could not speak.

She did not seem to mind his silence. That, or she was aware of the situation. Accepting his offer of entrance, she moved into the room with a nod. "My name is Pepper Potts. I came to see if you required anything, as Tony is currently occupied; and let's be honest, the he isn't the most considerate fellow."

_Quite the charismatic human, isn't she?_

Loki smirked, crossing his arms as he waited for her to continue.

"So, let's make a list of things you will need. Clothes, obviously. I've already been to visit Thor, and he kindly informed me that it would do you no good to strain yourself by- conjuring?- clothing. Oh, and he asked me to remind you that his briefcase is still a briefcase and he would like that fixed as soon as possible." To her credit, the woman did not bat an eyelash up until that last part, where she did allow some of her confusion to show through.

_And Thor could not tell me any of this _himself_? Brother, you truly are the laziest creature to walk on two legs._

"Anything else? I'm not very well informed, when it comes to the needs of gods. And I suspect Thor's wishes are different in nature than your own."

_Smart woman. Stark chooses his companions well._

"For what it's worth... I'm sorry for everything that's happened to you. Whatever your past crimes, nothing can condone such torture."

_And of course, she has to ruin my opinion of her with such filthy sentiment!_

With a sharp gesture towards the door, Loki effectively dismissed her. Pepper appeared to realize her mistake, but his eyes narrowed before she could utter an apology.

_Get out of my sight!_

Excusing herself with as much dignity as possible, the woman practically fled his dangerous gaze, the door shutting swiftly behind her.

With a hissed snarl, the god shut himself in the bathroom once more. The large mirror above the sink was just _begging_ to be shattered.

* * *

**A/N: Poor Loki. Don't worry, I'm sure the mirror will forgive you eventually.**

**Review, lovely readers! You are the only reason this story has gotten so far so quickly!**


	13. Chapter Twelve

**DISCLAIMER:**** I do not own Thor, the Avengers, or any of the characters. I'd like to think only the plot itself belongs to me, though even that is heavily influenced by the movies. Only thing I own is the television I used to watch them and the computer I use to write this thing.**

**WARNINGS****: None.  
**

* * *

CHAPTER TWELVE

* * *

Thor had not seen hide nor hair of his brother in three days.

Now on Asgard, before everything had gone to Hel, Loki had been reclusive and fiercely independent. Disappearing for days on end had not just been the norm, it was _expected_ of the trickster. His brother rarely said where he was going, but Thor had always known he would come back. It hadn't been surprising for the god of mischief to lurk in his rooms for the same amount of time as well. Thor had thought nothing of it at the time. It was simply what his brother did.

But now, Thor was worried. He wished his brother would leave his rooms- if only for an hour or two. He'd tried knocking on Loki's door, tried persuading him to let the thunderer inside. No matter what he did though, the trickster ignored him; and Thor respected his brother's privacy just enough to refrain from smashing the door off its hinges.

He had heard of Loki's less-than-charitable actions towards the woman during a conversation with Stark, and he was annoyed with his brother. Of course, he understood his reaction, for the most part, but he was a bit frustrated that Loki could not reign in his emotions.

_"He is understandably upset, after everything that happened," Pepper reassured the thunderer gently. _

_"There was no reason for him to act in such a manner, to a lady no less!" Though Thor loved his brother, he could not bring himself to condone such ungrateful actions._

_"Thor, you know him better than we do. Would you not expect him to lash out, if he found himself being pitied?" _

_He could not fault the woman's logic, "Perhaps... he is very proud, my brother."_

_"After what happened- his condition- do you really think he would appreciate pity? I assure you, he was most charming, if understandably silent, during my visit. Until the end."_

_Thor sighed, "No, he would not. Even from myself. My brother has never appreciated sentiment directed towards him." _

_"Perhaps, because he feels unworthy of it?"_

_Pepper's words hit him like a rock. "Why would he feel unworthy? That is preposterous."_

_"Maybe that's something you must ask him yourself." She squeezed his arm gently. "Do not be too angry with him, Thor. I did not take his actions personally."_

The thunder god found himself yet again standing outside his brother's rooms, appearing lost in his concern. He wanted some _sign_ that Loki was fine. And, to be blunt, he wished to have someone familiar to speak to, even if the conversation was one-sided. Stark and his lady friend, while amicable enough, were just not the same company as his brother.

Another crash of thunder outside prompted the god into knocking on Loki's door. The storm had grown worse in the past few days- the clouds had thickened, allowing no sun to pass through since the day before. The color of the impenetrable clouds concerned him as well. He had never seen anything so _black_ before, save for the void of space. And even that was lit by the glittering and mostly uninhabited worlds hanging between the branches of Yggdrasil.

With a sigh, he moved closer to the door, speaking through the structure over another rumble of thunder.

"Loki? Brother, _please_ allow me inside! You have me greatly worried about you!"

Thor could almost _swear_ he heard a scoff from within. Almost.

"I realize you wish to remain alone. But allow me just a few moments to see you, to ensure you are alright!"

There was predictably no answer- but just as Thor was about to leave, the door clicked open quietly.

He could scarcely believe his luck. After days of trying... The thunderer quickly entered his brother's new domain, before the trickster would be able to change his mind. It was dark inside, the only light entering from the bathroom, though the space lit up with the occasional flash lightning that managed to breach the thick clouds outside the window.

It was by the light of the storm that Thor found his brother, sitting cross-legged atop the bed with his back ramrod straight and hands resting in his lap. Even in the dim light, Thor could see his brother staring out the window silently, a pensive expression upon his face. It appeared the trickster did not bother with his illusions in the privacy of his rooms, for the thunderer could see the stitches binding his lips- the black cord a sharp contrast against his alabaster skin. His brother did look better- Thor could almost pretend Loki had never been in prison at all, if the stitches had not been visible.

Loki observed the black clouds outside, expression carefully blank as he waited for his brother to speak. Which he undoubtedly would. Thor never could stand silence for long- he always needed to be doing something, saying something. Yet another difference between the adopted siblings. Loki appreciated silence, and these borrowed rooms had been a welcome reprieve from conversation for the trickster.

Thor remained by the door, a slight frown on his bearded face. "You have not been seen in quite a while, brother. I was beginning to worry for you."

Loki didn't do so much as blink at the thunderer's words.

"Your behavior towards Lady Potts was most appalling. Count yourself lucky that Stark did not change his mind and kick us out for your actions."

No reaction was drawn from the trickster, but Thor kept speaking. "Why did you lash out so?"

With a sigh and without asking permission, the blond god sat down beside Loki on the large bed, staring out the window with him. The thunderer jumped in surprise as a small leaf of parchment appeared on the covers by his knees the moment he settled onto the bed. He lifted the paper, watching as ink materialized on the surface. The handwriting was one he would recognize anywhere.

_'I do not appreciate pity.'_

"Well, I have a hard time believing she was _pitying_ you, brother. Could she not have been merely expressing her condolences?"

_'Her sentiment was unwelcome._'

Thor sighed, running a hand through his shaggy hair. This was exactly as he imagined his brother to feel. "It is not a bad thing, to accept kind words brother."

'_It is, when they are undeserved.'_

"_Undeserved?_ What in the Nine Realms is that supposed to mean? Of course you deserve-"

'_Please Thor. Enough. I will not speak of this with you now.'_

"Then when will you?"_  
_

But Loki's strange parchment did not answer for him this time. For what felt as if the dozenth time that day, the thunderer gave a heavy sigh.

"Very well. But you must still apologize to Lady Potts. However undeserving of her kind words you feel you are, she was only attempting to be friendly."

'_If you insist.' _

"Thank you, brother."

They returned to staring out the window in silence, lightning flashing briefly outside the tower. Loki seemed mesmerized, and it appeared that his brother was just as concerned with the freakish storm as Thor- though perhaps not outwardly. It eased the thunderer's mind slightly to know that he was not alone in his worry.

"This is a strange storm, brother. Nothing like I have ever encountered before."

Loki hummed quietly in response, staring unblinkingly as wind howled outside, seeming to be just as deafening as the thunder.

"Have you seen anything like it before?" Thor felt the need to ask. His brother, for all his tricks and cruel mischief, was quite knowledgeable. Of course, that was an understatement, if Thor ever heard one.

_'Only once before.'_

Thor thanked Yggdrasil his brother had become strong enough to perform magic such as the fading ink on parchment. It was an indescribable relief to have some means of communication with the trickster!

"You have? When? How?"

The words took several moments to appear, almost as if Loki did not wish to share the information.

_'...in the Void.'_

"I see..." The god did not appreciate the involuntary shiver the words caused in him. After the Bifrost broke, and Loki had fallen into the blackness it created, he'd been presumed dead. For nearly two _years_. Thor had mourned the entire time, and when fate had given his brother back to him, there had been no time for a reunion. Loki's destruction on Midgard had been swift.

There was never a time to talk about his fall. What he had seen, on the other side of the portal. It had never occurred to the thunderer that there _was_ another side. That it wasn't empty. He understood now that he had been wrong to think that. Because Loki had returned from the other side, so there must have been _something_ other than emptiness.

And while his brother had been angry before his fall, he had not been so _twisted_ and _cruel_ as he was when he returned. Something had happened to change him.

"Do you wish to talk about it-?"

The answer was swift this time. '_No.'  
_

"But perhaps I could help-"

_'Do not push, Thor.'_

The thunderer sighed, conceding temporary defeat. He risked a glance at Loki's face. Though his expression was blank, Thor could see the barely-visible tightness in the trickster's eyes as he gazed into the clouds.

"...it frightens you, doesn't it?"

Thor held his breath, watching the god beside him stiffen. He half expected Loki to lash out angrily, for daring to suggest he was afraid. But his brother's eyes only narrowed as the writing began to appear once more.

'_Don't make assumptions_.' But even as the last letter formed, the words seemed to disappear once more only to be replaced almost hesitantly with:

_'Perhaps a little bit, yes.'_

It surprised the thunderer, his brother's admission. Never would he have guessed Loki to admit such feelings, for not once in their long lifetimes had the thunder god seen his brother express fear. Not once.

_He must truly be frightened, then. Brother, what happened to you after you fell_?

"Why do you fear it? Is a storm truly so terrifying-"

'_I do not fear the storm.'_

Loki had not wanted to believe it, at first. When the clouds had appeared over Denver, he had simply chalked it up to a mixture of human pollution and natural weather phenomena. But when the clouds had not broken, _not once_ even in New York, the trickster had begun to worry.

Wild hypotheses had formed in his quick mind, but he had refused to even consider that the storms had anything to do with the ones haunting the void. But now, he could no longer lie to himself. This was no natural occurrence.

Thor raised his hand to his brother's shoulder, hoping for it to be a comforting gesture. He did not expect the trickster to startle at the touch. "Then what _do_ you fear?"

'_I'm sure you would like to know.__'_

A politician's answer. Of course Loki was back to his infuriating way of dodging questions. Thor had been so _close_ to getting answers from the wily trickster! But he recognized the tactic as a defensive reaction.

"Yes. I would like to know what has my brother so afraid of a little lightning." Thor winced internally at his choice of words. They targeted Loki's pride. But perhaps it would prompt his brother into sharing more information.

'_The storm does not frighten me__, imbecile!_'

"If not that, then what else?"

_'What follows._'

A howl of thunder was the only sound to follow that ominous admission.

* * *

**A/N: Well now this story is going to get a whole lot more complex. But first, we'll see a few more characters join the mix. Joy! I hope Loki's actions were at least passably explained in this chapter. Or, perhaps it is even more confusing now. Sometimes it is difficult to express my convoluted thought processes when it comes to the character's actions. But I hope this chapter was alright!  
**

**And thank you Maia2, for pointing out the confusing switch between past and present tenses in my writing. I've been so used to using present tense in roleplay, that breaking off from that has been difficult, and the mistakes hard to catch. I'll do my best to go back and try and fix those errors!**

**Review? I am truly _amazed_ how much feedback I have gotten for this story! Thank you!  
**


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**DISCLAIMER:**** I do not own Thor, the Avengers, or any of the characters. I'd like to think only the plot itself belongs to me, though even that is heavily influenced by the movies. Only thing I own is the television I used to watch them and the computer I use to write this thing.**

**WARNINGS:**** Blood, violence, gore, and self-harm. Please don't read on if you are squeamish. I would hate to upset any of you lovely readers.  
**

**I will place a warning before the graphic part, if any of you wish to read but skip the gore. **

* * *

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

* * *

Loki had refused to say- well, write- anything more on the matter. Thor was disappointed, and had left Loki's room shortly after.

But their conversation had steeled the trickster's resolve, and he threw himself into strengthening his magic with a vengeance. Magic, in Loki's mind, was like a muscle. The more you used it, exercised it, the stronger it grew. But too much exercise, and it would weaken temporarily. If it was left neglected for too long, it would lose its strength and power, and it would be more difficult to get back. And with the threat of the storm hanging like a dark shadow in his mind, Loki knew that the sooner he removed the stitches, the better, and he needed his magic in order to do so.

It was a weak hope, believing he could undo the Allfather's magic will silent will alone. But he would try, and should it fail to work...

_There is always a Plan B. No matter how unpleasant._

And with that thought spurring him on, Loki meditated.

* * *

Pepper found a glittering vase positively filled with flowers at her desk the next morning. They were meant for her, as she scolded Tony firmly when he made to inspect the odd looking bouquet.

_"The card says 'Lady Potts', honey."_

She had been utterly enchanted. The strange buds and stalks appeared barren and lifeless, at first glance. But once she had come within a few feet of the vase, they seemed to burst into life, releasing an aroma that could be described as nothing less than beautiful, if a scent could be called such. The flowers were none that she had ever seen before, and the colorful, almost alien petals seemed to sway gently in a nonexistent breeze.

When Thor had caught glance of the flowers on his way to the kitchen, he simply smiled knowingly and continued on. When Pepper had made to question him relentlessly, he had simply told her _"I know of only one person who can create such flowers as these."_

If she had been angry with Loki before, which she hadn't been, then the gift would have been more than enough to melt her anger. Tony seemed to pout, annoyed, whenever she talked about them.

_"What, you gonna start dating reindeer games now?"_

_"Oh, don't be jealous honey. I'm sure if you ask nicely Loki will make you some as well."_

That had shut her boyfriend up very effectively.

* * *

Tony Stark had not seen or spoken to the rest of the Avengers since Thor and Loki had departed to Asgard with the cosmic cube.

SHIELD had recalled Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff almost as soon as the two gods had vanished. They needed Black Widow and Hawkeye out of the public eye, as the organization did not want the catastrophe to be connected to them. Thus, the public blame doubled in pressure on the Iron Man, Captain America, and the Hulk, the latter two fleeing across the globe in order to avoid it.

The media pressure was to be expected, Tony mused. People wanted someone to blame for the mass destruction of Manhattan and New York city. And though in the end it had been Loki and the Chitauri who had caused thousands of deaths, the Avengers were blamed for not protecting the citizens well enough.

_We did the best we could_.

But people didn't care- didn't understand. The world was in mourning. Thousands dead, and even more injured. Damage costs so high that even Tony would have been bankrupt trying to pay it all. Innumerable lives had been devastated, all in the span of less than a few hours. And yet, Tony was offering shelter to the man- god- responsible for it all.

_I must be insane_.

Pepper had said as much to the billionaire when he had explained the situation to her. But Stark thanked the gods that his girlfriend eventually accepted his decision. He wouldn't have enjoyed going to Thor and telling him that he'd changed his mind.

She'd taken to caring for the two gods in the typical Pepper-fashion, seeing that no need was ignored and no wish gone un-granted. Thor predictably had a sizable list of things he would require, but Loki, much to Stark's surprise, only requested clothing and water. It baffled Tony- he would have thought Loki to be the more spoiled and needy of the two brothers.

_Perhaps his punishments humbled him_.

Thor had explained to Tony when the man brought it up, that Loki preferred to do things himself. But it just didn't _fit_ with his image of the trickster at all. Then again he supposed he didn't know the god very well beyond what he saw during the battle around his tower.

He hadn't seen the trickster much after the incident with Pepper. He assumed he would be in the rooms he had chosen- brooding, probably. But his magic was getting stronger, if the weird flowers he had given his girlfriend were any indication. Tony firmly reminded himself that he was _not jealous_.

If Pepper hadn't been guarding the flowers like a hound, Stark would have long since confiscated them and inspected them in his lab. He told himself that he just wanted to make sure they weren't releasing anything poisonous into the air, but secretly, the genius wanted the chance to inspect magic up close.

_After all, magic is the science we don't yet understand_.

He sighed, playing with the whirly desk-trinket Pepper had gifted him for his fortieth birthday. He still hadn't figured out how it worked, much to his great annoyance. But he supposed that is what made it a great, if frustrating, gift for the genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist.

He was just about to give it an unnecessary tap, when Jarvis piped up.

"Sir, Miss Potts is requesting an audience. She is quite insistent. Shall I let her in?"

"Sure. Yeah." He answered, tapping the trinket boredly.

As soon as the doors slid open, Tony found himself being pulled out of his chair by a panicked-looking woman.

"Tony, you have to come help-"

"Whoa, Peps- what's wrong?" He stumbled after her, the woman dragging him insistently towards the door.

"It's Loki, Tony. Thor needs your help."

Shit.

"Why, what happened?"

"Just suit up, damn it, and follow me!" The woman shouted at him, and Tony allowed a brief moment to express internal shock over the fact that _Pepper used a kind-of-sort-of-curse word._

She had let go and was ahead of him, obviously expecting the genius to follow. With a sigh, Stark triggered his cuffs- _bracelets_- and followed after her, his Iron Man suit piecing itself together around his body.

The closer they got to Loki's rooms, the more alarm Tony felt. A shrill, earsplitting noise was coming from behind the closed door, and he saw Pepper in his peripheral vision shove plugs in her ears.

Taking only a second to steel himself, Stark blasted the door off its hinges. Once the debris cleared, he could see why Pepper had been so alarmed.

_Those are some tough stitches._

* * *

_(A/N: Warnings apply here.)_

* * *

Loki's rooms radiated energy, the air crackling as he bombarded the cords with wave after wave of magic. It was not a silent process- the shrill sound of the trickster's magic slicing fruitlessly at the cord was heard throughout Stark's tower. Loki counted himself lucky the noise drowned out his pained cries. Pepper had reappeared with Stark in tow, and had taken to wearing earplugs and standing outside his room- though the plugs did little to help. The vibrations of sound seemed to travel through everything- and the flimsy earpieces stood little chance against the ear-splitting reverberations.

Tony looked unsure how he could help, his helmeted head swinging back and forth between Loki and Thor, at a loss. The thunder god was swinging Mjölnir at an invisible barrier blocking his way. He had attempted to stop Loki some time ago, and a blast of magic had sent him into the wall on the other side of the room, pinning him there. When the first sound had emanated from his brother's rooms, Thor had been sure there was something attacking the trickster. But when he came to investigate, he had seen no attacker- the noise was coming from _Loki_. It was deafening, but Thor did not appear to notice. His concern for his brother was nearly palpable.

"Stark, stop him! He's ripping this place apart-!" Thor yelled at the frozen man, attempting to strike his invisible prison once more.

Tearing apart was an understatement. Most of the furniture in the room had already been demolished by the waves of magic crashing out of the god. The strong walls were cracking visibly, chunks of paint, concrete, and steel falling off and onto the floor. Tony aimed a blast at Loki, but it was deflected almost immediately and destroyed part of the ceiling it hit. Abandoning the fire-from-afar approach, the Iron Man flew straight at the god, but a blast of magic that crumpled part of his suit like paper sent him flying back. And just like Thor, he too was pinned against the wall, unable to do anything but watch.

Much time had passed, and yet the stitches remained intact. The cord smoked- more of a metallic dust than the by-product of any flame. Any time the cord seemed to take the slightest bit of damage, it would repair itself and grow colder. By nightfall the stitches were so cold that they physically burned the god, and even his Jotun blood did little to offer him protection. His cries, though inaudible in the face of the cacophonous screech of magic against magic, had increased as the cords burned his flesh and his magic sliced through both skin and enchanted thread. He had abandoned any efforts at care and precision- his only focus was on removing the foul stitches the blasted Allfather had cursed!

There was blood, so much blood. It poured from the trickster's mangled lips, soaking his clothing and the floor he knelt on. It made Thor feel physically sick, to see this happening to his _brother_. The agony on his face was evident, the way his arms trembled to direct his magic in a brutal onslaught towards his lips, the harsh green light severing his skin carelessly in an effort to weaken the cords. Thor redoubled his efforts to smash his way out of the magical prison.

He had seen his brother's skill in wielding his magic, the precision with which he effortlessly directed it to do his bidding. This was not like that. No, this was a tidal wave of pure, raw energy_, _carving ruthlessly through flesh and bone. And the thunderer was certain he was only catching a glimpse of Loki's power. If that cord had not been enchanted, Thor was certain it would have been _destroyed_. Blasted into dust and then the dust annihilated even further until not a trace remained.

But the thread impossibly withstood the onslaught. At one point, Tony was sure he could see the stitches fray ever so slightly. But as soon as it happened, the thread strengthened and repaired once more.

And even amidst the agony his brother was putting himself through, the thunderer could see him growing ever more furious when the stitches refused to be destroyed. The enchantments held strong, and Loki was growing more desperate. But he would not give up- could not abandon his attempts. But the cord did not yield, and with a flash of blood-red Jotun eyes, the trickster ceased all movement completely.

The room fell silent, and Tony hoped that the god had stopped for good. Any longer and the room would have collapsed. The trickster was frozen, not a muscle twitched. He remained still as a statue. Before the Iron Man could express his relief that it was over, he saw Thor's eyes widen as he shook his head in alarm, his gaze locked with Loki's.

"Brother- don't do it- we'll think of another way-"

Stark could not see the god's face, but he _did_ see Loki's hand raise- the first movement coming from him in about a minute- and his fingers press to his lips. Thor looked more afraid than Tony had ever seen him before, and the thunder god barely had time to yell for Pepper to look away before a sickening squelch and a fleshy _rip_ filled their ears.

_Oh _god_, he didn't-_

Tony didn't look to see if his girlfriend was covering her eyes, for he couldn't have possibly hoped to look away as the god dropped something very bloody and very pale onto the carpet. Bile rose in the Iron Man's throat and his helmet parted from his face just in time to allow the man within to vomit onto the floor.

Thor looked at his brother in shock, his face pale and slightly sick-looking as he stared in horror at the thing on the floor. Loki was hunched over, his body trembling in pain as his hands cupped his mouth, shuddering gasps escaping the god. The magical binds that prevented Thor and Tony from moving away from their corners released, and the thunder god immediately rushed over to his brother, wrapping his strong arms around him.

Tony could hear the blond god murmuring softly to his shaking brother, but Stark couldn't hear the words clearly enough to discern their meaning. He stumbled over to the pair, eyes locked on the object on the floor, desperately hoping his suspicions were incorrect for once. But he was horrified to find that he was right. There, laying on the bloodied floor, were the mangled, stitched lips of the God of Lies.

For the second time that night, Tony Stark vomited.

* * *

_(A/N: End Warnings.)_

* * *

**A/N: There's always a Plan B. Poor Loki.  
**

**Ialmost made myself sick just writing this. Hopefully it was alright? Next chapter shouldn't be quite so horrible.  
**

**Review? I love your feedback more than I can express!**


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**DISCLAIMER:**** I do not own Thor, the Avengers, or any of the characters. I'd like to think only the plot itself belongs to me, though even that is heavily influenced by the movies. Only thing I own is the television I used to watch them and the computer I use to write this thing.**

**WARNINGS****: ****More blood, but not as bad as the previous chapter. Disturbing images.  
**

**I'll place a heads-up before warning content, so please skip it if you find any of the warnings above disturbing. I'd hate to upset any of you!  
**

* * *

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

* * *

It took a great deal of effort for Tony Stark to draw his eyes away from the _thing_ on the floor (for he absolutely refused to think of it for what it truly was). Much like someone watching a crash, or another person falling- he just couldn't seem to look away. Finally though, his eyes seemed to obey him and looked to the pair of gods to his left.

Loki was shaking- from pain or exhaustion, or both, Tony wasn't sure. Hunched over with his hands cupping his bleeding mouth, the trickster had been enveloped in a strong, warm embrace from the god of thunder; the warrior had set Mjölnir down to free both his hands. Thor was gently rubbing Loki's back, something Tony doubted the liesmith would ever allow in normal circumstances, and his other hand held the back of Loki's head, holding him close as if the heat of Thor's body would somehow give comfort. The god murmured words that seemed nonsensical to Tony, or perhaps they were simply of a language he did not recognize, but they seemed to help calm Loki's quavering form if only slightly.

Tony felt like he was intruding on a private moment, which struck him as odd. He wasn't really the type of guy who cared if he was spying on other people or making them uncomfortable- he was simply observing! But now, he felt the need to look away, and give the gods at least some semblance of privacy. He turned back towards the broken door, seeing Pepper turned away. Tony felt only relief that his girlfriend had not seen those last moments.

Shedding his Iron Suit, Stark pulled his girlfriend into a tight hug, though she still did not turn away. Her breathing seemed hitched, and he was shocked to realize Pepper was trying to not cry. Now, Tony wasn't really the touchy-feely-comforting type, but he didn't hesitate to run his fingers through Pepper's hair, kissing her ear.

"Shh... it's all over now. Everything is okay." Pepper gave a little hiccup, but nodded in response to his words.

"Did- did he-..."

"Get them off? Yeah."

Pepper sniffled, and Tony held her more tightly. Luckily, she hadn't heard, with the earplugs. Stark breathed a sigh of relief.

"Everything is alright now."

The woman gave a tiny nod, pulling gently out of Tony's embrace. "I'll be upstairs. If he needs anything..."

"I can handle it, Peps."

* * *

_(A/N: Warning content begins here.)_

* * *

She nodded, giving him a soft kiss before leaving the Avenger and the two gods alone. Stark turned back to the ruined room, wincing at the devastation he could see. And the blood. Thor continued to hold Loki against him, whispering quietly. He saw the dark haired god nod briefly, and with a great deal of care that seemed strange coming from the thunderer, Thor lifted his brother to his feet, supporting him without protest and leading him into the bathroom. The door did not close behind them, so Stark did not hesitate to follow, carefully stepping over the _thing_ on the ground as he went.

Thor kept a steadying arm against Loki's back as the trickster leaned against the counter. The mirror he had shattered several days previously had been repaired by the trickster himself, and offered a crystal-clear, horrific view of his face. Tony repressed the urge to vomit _again_, though his stomach was empty from his previous bouts of nausea.

He had only caught a glimpse before looking away out of instinct, but it had been enough to sear the image into his mind. He had seen Loki's face in the mirror- deathly pale and eyes seeming to flicker between bloodshot green orbs and bloody red pools that looked, in Tony's opinion, rather demonic and frightening. The shadows under his eyes seemed more like bruises than anything, they were so dark. But the thing that made bile crawl up the Iron Man's throat was the trickster's mouth.

The god had no lips, the skin of his chin and under his nose had been ripped away, leaving bloody, almost black tears in his flesh. The view offered in the absence of lips was disturbing- Loki's bloodied gums and teeth seemed as a red, horrifying smile to Stark. The entirety of his chin and neck was soaked in the blood continuing to flow from his ruined mouth.

Stark needed the image gone from his mind, for even as his eyes turned away, the memory of it seemed burned into his mind. Thor looked deeply disturbed, but his concern for his brother outweighed any of the god's discomfort and horror. He continued to rub on of Loki's shoulders in a comforting gesture that the trickster didn't seem to notice. Stark risked a glance at the younger god, and saw his shaking fingers gently probing the tears in his flesh. He did not wince, and his eyes narrowed as he looked at his reflection, an expression of pained concentration on his face.

Tony jumped in surprise as he heard a rough, ragged wheezing coming from the trickster. He appeared to be speaking, but without his lips to form many of the syllables, it sounded like nonsense to Stark. He imagined it would, though, even if the god did have his lips, for the words did not sound like English at _all_.

Loki focused through the burning, nauseating pain radiating from his lower face. His fingers danced across the wounds, beginning with the upper horizontal tear beneath his nose. His voice sounded like a dying whisper from disuse, but the magic came nonetheless, and with hope blossoming in his chest, the trickster wove the healing seiðr into his flesh.

Thor was rubbing his shoulder, but Loki could not be pressed to care at the moment. His only concern was that of his reflection in the mirror, and the blessed magic pooling in his fingers.

Utilizing his magic when he had been forced mute had been difficult- without his words, he was left to bending his raw power in a less precise act of will. But this was seiðr, the spoken form of magic that the trickster had perfected in his thousands of years of existence. He'd worried, that after so long without using it his efforts would be clumsy, uncoordinated. But now he saw that his worry had been for naught- for even without his lips to help him form the soft syllables, his magic obeyed. He used far less power with seiðr, as the raw will he'd needed for his magic during his silence had leeched energy and concentration that otherwise would have remained if his silver tongue had bore the weight of directing his magic.

His skin was beginning to grow- flesh repairing and extending as his magic worked to reform his lips. He began with the upper, healing the tears and prompting the cells to multiply and grow. Loki's flesh tingled in a sensation much more intense than the Midgardian term "pins and needles", but his will overrode the need to scratch and squirm under the strange feeling. He wondered if Stark was watching- the trickster had not missed, even in his pain, how the Iron Man had followed he and Thor. The mortal had never seen Loki perform acts like this- the trickster had not bothered to use any seiðr at all when he had come to retrieve the tesseract.

It seemed like hours had passed, but in reality it had taken mere minutes for Loki to repair his upper lip. The lower went slightly faster, for he was better able to form the consonants as flesh became usable once more. Thor didn't understand the arcane words much better than Stark, and Loki could have snorted at his brother's lack of interest in anything relying on study. But he did not, so intent was he on healing the flesh of his mouth. He was grateful the bleeding had ceased with his efforts, the god already felt sticky everywhere, and his stomach rolled from the blood he had swallowed. It would be easy enough to expel, he was sure, as soon as he had finished healing his mouth.

And he did finish. His skin remained soaked with sticky, slowly drying blood, but underneath the red he could see the clear outline of his lips. Only the faintest of scars remained, but those would be simple enough to hide with magic, as he had done with the stitches before. It would not be the first scars he had ever gained. Loki opened his mouth several times, his jaw protesting at the action which had not been performed in a year. But the ache was good, and Loki relished the soreness because it meant his _stitches were gone_ and he could _speak_ and _smile_ and _eat_ once more.

* * *

_(A/N: Warning content ends here.)_

* * *

A smirk pulled at his lips, and his eyes, which had settled back to bloodshot green, glanced up to Thor's reflection in the mirror. His brother, though still pale from seeing Loki before, was beaming at him; and for once, Loki felt the urge to share his wide grin. He didn't, of course- Loki still had _some_ control over his actions. But the trickster did allow his lips to twitch briefly at his brother, before he stood up, only swaying once. Truly, he was exhausted after expending all that raw power in an attempt to remove the Allfather's magic from the stitches, but he would recover.

The god of mischief turned to Stark, who was staring at him in nothing less than shock. Loki cleared his throat, and though his voice was weak from disuse, his words were heard well enough.

"Where are the kitchens? I am _starving_."

Thor's booming laughter drowned out Tony's reply.

* * *

**A/N: At the request of a reviewer, the 'Drama' genre for this story has been changed to 'Horror'. Though really, the previous chapter and this one contains the most graphic content the story will have.  
**

**Thank you everyone who pointed out the over-exaggerated death toll in the previous chapter! It has been changed to a more realistic number, in regards to the damage we saw in the movie. I really appreciated the input!**

**We're done with gore for a while. Thank goodness, right? Anything else in the story will just be violence. Sorry if the explanation for Loki's magic was confusing... And I can't believe I already have more than 60 reviews! You. Guys. Are. Amazing.  
**

**Review? Your feedback aids my muse, my writing, and helps keep the updates this frequent! **


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**DISCLAIMER:**** I do not own Thor, the Avengers, or any of the characters. I'd like to think only the plot itself belongs to me, though even that is heavily influenced by the movies. Only thing I own is the television I used to watch them and the computer I use to write this thing.**

**WARNINGS:**** None.  
**

* * *

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

* * *

Thor watched closely as his brother wiped the blood from his face, before following the Iron Man to his kitchens. His sharp eyes caught the briefest faltering step from Loki, his eyebrows creased in concern. They may be gods, but the blood loss and power he had expended in the attempt to remove his stitches certainly had not done the trickster any favors. The thunder god followed behind, seeing his brother pause only to pick up his discarded flesh from the floor and into his pocket, as if it were a perfectly normal object. Thor barely concealed a shudder. His brother might be unaffected by the action, but Thor certainly was not. It had been horrifying to witness first-hand his brother's attempts to free the stitches, and his desperate solution when magic had proved futile. The warrior was no stranger to violence, but he was certain that the memory would haunt his nightmares for a long while yet.

Though his magic was returning, Thor could see Loki remained tired. He looked ill and exhausted, and Thor was certain the faint lines on his face had not been there before Loki's fall from the Bifröst. Just as he was certain Loki was concealing the worst of it with a guise.

_Did father withhold Iðunn's apples from Loki during his imprisonment? _The thought made Thor growl internally.

It certainly seemed like it. And the thought sent a wave of anger through the thunder god. It would explain the slow return of his brother's magic- a week to recover a fraction of what Loki lost no doubt felt like ages to the trickster. The apples would have solved that problem, if he had only had one recently.

Thor supposed he took for granted the gift of youthfulness the apples granted. They were present at every meal on Asgard- as fresh fruit, cider, mixed into wine, used for sauces and dressings... of course Loki would have been deprived of the golden fruit once the stitches were in place.

It made Thor furious. Had he not rescued his brother, the trickster would have wasted away as his many centuries of life caught up to him. Death would have been a mercy if such a thing were to happen.

_But it didn't._

And now with his magic returning- albeit slowly- Loki would be able to circumvent the consequences of so long without the apples. Besides, Thor thought, what are a few lines when Loki can _speak_ once more? No longer would there be one-sided conversations and misread signals. To be perfectly honest, the thunderer sorely missed Loki's sharp wit and sharper tongue. He missed his brother's tricks and mischief and that gleam in his eyes whenever he knew something others did not. Thor missed _Loki_.

He could scarcely believed his eyes when his brother had reformed his lips. Thor had seen healers in the palace at work with their salves and bandages, and occasionally observed his mother lend a little of her magic to aid a warrior's recovery. But he had never seen such a feat as his brother performed. He had worked with practiced ease, seeming to be unaffected by the long time he had gone without using such complex magics. Thor suspected it was much like riding one of those Midgardian two-wheeled transportation devices- even if one should neglect to practice, the muscle memory would remain long after.

The words his brother had hissed escaped Thor's comprehension. It certainly was not a language of the All-speak. In their centuries of living, Thor had known much of Loki's magic relied on spoken words, but the trickster usually murmured them so quietly that Thor couldn't hope to catch their meaning, even if he was standing beside his brother at the time.

Seeing such power had baffled Thor. He knew his brother's magic to be severely weakened at the moment- more so after the brutal waves of power he had thrown at the stitches. And yet he had easily reformed flesh that had not been present as if it was mere child's play.

Well, perhaps that was a bit of an exaggeration. But the fact remained that Loki should not have been able to do it! Thor had never seen him perform works of magic such as that.

_Perhaps I was not paying attention. _

After battles, Loki never retreated to the healing rooms, regardless of how injured he might be. His brother, without fail, always shut himself in his chambers; re-emerging unharmed. Thor had never given much thought to it at the time, but now it made sense. And of course, there was the few times when Thor had been grievously wounded, before he had been granted Mjölnir, that he would fall unconscious in the healing ward of the palace, and wake to find his terrible wounds completely mended without a scar.

_Brother, you are a sneaky..._

The thought brought a smile to his face. Loki might pretend he cared nothing for Thor, but his actions in the past spoke otherwise. After seeing his brother's magics in the bathroom, many things suddenly made sense that had puzzled Thor before. As if sensing his smile, Loki turned his head, raising a silent, curious eyebrow. The expression was not mocking, merely questioning.

The thunderer shook his head, but could not remove the grin from his lips no matter how he tried. Loki would return back to his normal self, something Thor looked forward to dearly. But first, his brother needed sustenance.

* * *

"So, should I assume you and Thor both eat the same things...?" Tony inquired, raising an eyebrow up at the god.

"Nay, good friend. Loki has never shared the same tastes as I," the thunderer answered without thinking.

He felt momentarily ashamed when Loki muttered in a hoarse voice, "I _can_ speak for myself now, Thor." His brother looked rather embarrassed, and the expression caused the trickster to roll his eyes inwardly. He turned to Stark, who glanced up to meet his eyes briefly. Tony never really enjoyed making eye contact with the god for long. He always felt like he was being visually dissected, as if Loki's gaze could pick apart his mind and draw out his innermost secrets. Perhaps he was also a bit jealous of the intelligence hidden within those orbs, always making the genius feel like a preschooler gazing up in awe at, well, a genius. Tony did not enjoy feeling like that.

"Something mild would be appreciated." The god told him in his voice which remained at a quiet level, lacking the strong, melodious timber Tony recalled him possessing during his quest to conquer the tesseract and the world. In Tony's honest opinion, Loki sounded like he had a really horrible cold.

_Well, obviously he hasn't spoken in some time. You'd expect his voice to be a little rough. _

"Mild, huh?" He snorted. "I figured you as the kind of guy who liked rich flavors," and expensive meals. But he wouldn't say so out loud.

Loki's sneer and subsequent statement made Tony feel like an idiot, which he did not enjoy. "I have not eaten in _quite_ some time. I hardly think you would appreciate vomit all over your floor."

Right. No god-puke on his shiny floors, thank you. "Mild it is." Tony glanced around the very spacious kitchen twice before concluding he had absolutely no idea what types of foods would qualify as 'mild. He wasn't much of an expert on post-starvation rehabilitation, genius or no. The god of mischief gave Tony a thoroughly unimpressed stare after watching him stare at the food cupboards for several minutes in thought. Tony Stark didn't really have much of a need for mild food stuffs. He was more of a spicy flavor lover. He supposed he could use Jarvis to research for him, but that would have meant admitting he had no idea what he was doing. Which he didn't, but he was hardly going to say so out loud, right?

"Do you have bread?" Loki sighed, raising an eyebrow. His eyes narrowed slightly as he watch Stark struggle. "Or broth?" The god sat beside Thor in one of the bar stools under the island.

"Got both." Tony replied, scrounging for said foods. He tossed a loaf of bread at the two siblings, the thunder god breaking it in half with ease. Loki pulled bits and pieces off his share, inspecting one for a long moment before popping it in his mouth.

Thor watched him carefully. "How does it taste, brother?" Green eyes looked at him out of the corner of his lids, the god taking his time to chew. Thor could see he was struggle to do so slowly, rather than eat his entire portion in one bite. And, the thunder god guessed, he was probably savoring the flavor, after so long without tasting much of anything.

"It will do," Loki murmured carefully, once he'd swallowed. Coming from the trickster, that was like saying it tasted like the most scrumptious morsel in the nine realms. Thor beamed.

"There's more where that came from!" Thor said, smiling cheerfully and clapping Loki on the shoulder. "Eat up, brother!"

And he did.

* * *

**A/N: I know that _technically_ one shouldn't give anything solid to a starvation victim, but I figured, since Loki's a god, his stomach would have a higher tolerance for such things.**

**This chapter was rather short, but the next one will be much longer. _And_ we'll be adding more characters to the mix, to boot. With some action. Joy!**

**The next update will regrettably be somewhat late in posting. My apologies! I'll have it up as soon as possible, I promise!**

**Review? Your feedback is invaluable to me!**


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**DISCLAIMER:**** I do not own Thor, the Avengers, or any of the characters. I'd like to think only the plot itself belongs to me, though even that is heavily influenced by the movies. Only thing I own is the television I used to watch them and the computer I use to write this thing.**

**WARNINGS:**** Cursing.  
**

* * *

There were raised voices coming from the lounge.

The door was shut, the walls making an admirable attempt at sound-proofing themselves. But they were no match for Loki's seiðr, which had grown exponentially in the few short days since the stitches had been removed. Subtle prodding of the enchantments upon the cord which he'd saved after removing the flesh from around them suggested the faintest dampening of magic tied to them. When they'd held his lips shut, the binding cantrip had leeched his seiðr in infinitesimal amounts, preventing any large portion from returning to him. It'd kept Loki magically weakened, but in such a way that he did not notice without his seiðr to sense the drain. It was a cunning ploy on Odin's part, though rendered obsolete with the removal of the cord.

He'd not used so much healing seiðr in at least a century, if not more. With his magic returning, he had the opportunity to expedite his recovery. In the span of a few hours Loki had done what would have otherwise taken weeks of conditioning and careful eating by strengthening his digestive system with careful, stimulating waves of seiðr. He now possessed much the same appetite and tolerance for sustenance as he had on Asgard before his fall.

He would require a golden apple before too long- he was already beginning to see crow's feet appear at the corners of his eyes and faint lines at the edges of his lips underneath his glamour, much to the god's chagrin. Thor, the fortunate fool, did not have quite as much of a rush as Loki. Any signs of aging in the thunderer would only be seen as ruggedly handsome marks, like those battle scars he insisted on showing off. No doubt the golden warrior had consumed his fill of Iðunn's apples before Loki's rescue, while the trickster had not consumed a single slice of the immortal fruits since his impromptu reign as King of Asgard.

But the apples could wait a while longer. Any age lines would be swiftly hidden with seiðr, and silver hairs plucked. (They were _not_ gray, Loki reminded himself firmly. That would be unacceptable.) A pity he was not yet strong enough to sneak off through the hidden paths, else it would be a simple matter of snatching a satchel-full of apples from the goddess' orchard.

The voices had grown in volume, but remained unintelligible. He could hear Thor's among the mix, one of the loudest, and it was clearly obvious the thunderer was shouting. If Loki hadn't been curious before, he most certainly was then. Thor only ever argued in such a heated manner with Loki or with Odin, so unless the Allfather had managed to see past Loki's cloaking ward and decide to pay a visit to Stark's tower, then something truly extraordinary must have set the thunderer off.

Loki briefly considered becoming a fly on the wall - literally - in order to listen in on the conversation inside, but then dismissed the idea. He wasn't entirely sure the effort wouldn't drain him completely, and most of the doors in the tower were pressure-sealed. He would be hard-pressed to find a crack large enough to squeeze a gnat through.

He would have to rely on a much more conspicuous approach. He'd lose the element of stealth, unfortunately, but until he could access the unseen plane it would have to be enough.

"Good Jarvis, are you present?" Loki had found he much preferred the AI to physical company, after he had learned the details behind its' creation. Thor still firmly believed Stark had managed to trap a spirit within the walls of his tower, and no amount of persuasion or fact could shake the thunderer's belief. Though Loki would never admit it, he'd thought much the same at first. But since his seiðr had returned, he could easily sense no metaphysical presence, and had been forced to conclude that it was indeed a product of Anthony Stark's creation. Thank the Nörns it had not inherited the engineer's personality.

_"Indeed I am, sir."_

"Would you-" The trickster cleared his throat, still a little annoyed with how scratchy his voice remained even after his throat had been healed. "Would you care to open the door to the lounge? It appears to be locked."

It appeared as if the AI hesitated briefly, but after a moment the seals on the door released with a polite _"Certainly."_, allowing Loki to enter.

And stop in his tracks.

All six Avengers, Lady Potts, and an unidentified woman were present in the large room. Thor stood in the middle, bearing threateningly down upon a furious Agent Barton. The thunderer had Mjölnir raised intimidatingly, a muscle twitch away from hammering Hawkeye into a bloody mess. The Captain of America stood a few feet away from the pair, shield raised uncertainly in case he needed to intervene. Agent Romanoff sat in the center of one of the couches, arms crossed and muscles coiled, ready to spring into action. Banner stood by the fire, looking a little green but still human, and Stark had planted himself beside Pepper, appearing to regret not wearing his metal suit.

The strange woman, Loki mused, was either incredibly brave, stupid, or both. She had a hand resting on Mjölnir, a foolish attempt at getting the thunderer to lower his weapon, and her face was set in a determined frown. _Definitely stupid._

Thor was shouting, a furious mixture of the All-Speak and the old tongue, and while Loki could easily understand both, he was sure the others struggled to keep up with the thunderer's fractured ranting. Barton was yelling as well, but Thor's voice easily dwarfed the marksman's.

"You - - too far, son of Barton! Do not - - brother in such a manner- !"

"- could you let that sick murdering bastard- !"

"Silence your - - never insult him! - - half a mind - - rip your foul tongue out myself! You think that bow makes you a man?!"

"- he's a fucking madman! How can you stick up for that lying son of a bitch?!"

"HOW DARE YOU INSULT THE ALLMOTHER, YOU FETID PILE OF - - !"

"Thor- ?" the woman at his side questioned softly, her eyes having finally spotted Loki leaning against the doorway.

"- MALODOROUS CUR -"

Nearly everyone was looking at Loki now, aside from the arguing pair in the center of the room. No, Barton was glaring at the trickster as well. It seemed Thor was the only one who had not yet noticed.

"INBRED, REPUGNANT -"

Lady Potts was giving Loki an expectant look, glancing pointedly at the raging thunder god who looked to be a hairsbreadth away from using Barton as Mjölnir's new anvil. Apparently it was up to him to calm the thunderer down. A pity, he was thoroughly enjoying listening to the god's creative rant. A pity the mortals couldn't understand the old tongue, because - goodness, he didn't even know Thor _knew_ that one - the old gods unquestionably had the best insults.

"ABOMINABLE - - "

_Fine_. They had to ruin his fun, didn't they?

Clearing his throat, Loki took another step into the room. The Hawk and Widow had their weapons pointed at him in a flash, the Captain raising his shield a short moment later. Thor looked at Barton's drawn bow indignantly, and thinking the agent was threatening him, raised Mjölnir to strike. The woman was now attempting to yank the god's unyielding arm down, and Loki was really beginning to question the mortal's sanity.

"As much- " Loki coughed. " -much as I would appreciate seeing this continue, it would be wise if you calmed yourself, brother. It would be a shame to see Stark's expensive carpet sullied with, ah... _essence of Barton_."

Thor nearly dropped the ancient hammer in his surprise, spinning his head around to give Loki a delighted smile. "Brother! How are you feeling?" Several of the Avengers gave Thor an incredulous stare, taken aback by his mercurial moods. He lowered Mjölnir, moving towards the trickster with an outstretched arm.

"Kindly do not embrace me," Loki warned, only to end up being completely ignored.

"Have you eaten recently? Is your seiðr making a swift return? When was the last time you slept? - "

The thunderer was still hugging him. "Thor, if you do not release me _this instant_ and cease your abhorrent fussing I _will_ curse you." Loki hissed, amazed at the prince's audacity, but the elder god didn't seem at all perturbed. A hissing pop rang through the room, the thunderer withdrawing with a yelp. He clutched his arm, hand covering the small, harmless burn on his skin, which just as soon disappeared with an invisible brush of seiðr. Loki resolutely ignored the god's fond grin.

"Next time I won't heal it," he murmured, low enough that only Thor could hear. He turned to look at the Avenger's, raising a challenging eyebrow at the weapons raised towards him. _Is that how this is going to be, then? Fine._ Walking resolutely towards the middle of the room, Loki took a seat across from the Widow, lounging pointedly on the leather cushions.

Pepper - bless her - took that as an opportunity to sit beside the trickster, giving Stark a _Look_. The billionaire sighed dramatically, but silently relented and flopped down on his girlfriend's left. The mortal raised her right arm and draped it across Loki's shoulders, pretending not to notice him tense, and narrowed her eyes at the weapons pointed towards the mischief god.

_Stark's woman possesses more courage than he does. Why does that not surprise me?_

The Captain of America lowered his shield first, taking a seat on the couch between Loki and the Black Widow. Romanoff set her firearms down in her lap, following Rogers' lead, if a bit reluctantly. Banner continued to stand by the fire, the green tinge to his skin having receded a few shades since the fighting ceased.

Thor looked disappointed when he could see no open seat beside Loki - _thank the Nörns_ - so he sunk into the seat beside the Captain, nodding towards his comrade in greeting.

Barton continued to aim an arrow between the trickster's eyes, much to the trickster's amusement. "Really, Barton. You've seen bullets glance off my cheek, what makes you think an arrow will do better?"

"I've hurt you with one before," the archer growled, the bowstring tightening.

Loki smirked, "You launched me into the air with one, you mean. That is quite a difference." The agent growled, pulling the arrow back further. "You see I am unarmed, but by all means, take a shot if it would make you feel better. I'll be happy to hold still."

Clint did not lower the bow, but neither did he release the arrow into Loki's skull. Romanoff was placing her hand on his arm, as a restraining or a calming gesture, Loki wasn't certain. But it appeared to work, when after a moment Hawkeye lowered the weapon and sat down beside her, though he kept the arrow nocked.

"Jane?" Thor asked, sending the woman still standing a charming grin. She returned the smile, tucking her hair behind her ear and perching rather close to the thunderer.

_Ah. His mortal lover_. "Are you going to introduce us, Thor, or must I do it for you?"

At least Thor looked suitably guilty. "Jane? This is my brother- "

"Adopted."

Thor ignored him. "- brother, Loki. Loki, this is- "

"Jane Foster." The woman was frowning at him, anger and wariness warring in her expression. "You sent the Destroyer. And brainwashed Erik."

He hummed in the affirmative, giving her a benign smile. She didn't seem fooled, looking sour and frustrated with his lack of guilt.

"If it is any consolation," the trickster began quietly, voice rough. "I released the Destroyer for Thor's benefit, and Selvig was treated with utmost respect under my care. I would not have taken him under my wing if it could have been avoided."

Jane was not the only one to look incredulous. "That's a lie," she accused. Thor was frowning.

"What do you mean, for my benefit? I was under the impression you wanted me dead, that you might keep the throne."

Loki resisted the urge to roll his eyes, barely. "Well you always were insufferably obtuse. Have I not already told you I never wished to rule Asgard? With Laufey dead, I am next in line for Jötunheim's throne." What was left of it, at least.

Thor's frown deepened. "But then why try to kill me?"

"Mjölnir wasn't going to have a sudden change of heart and believe you to be worthy of wielding her without a suitable push. You were not making nearly enough progress - in fact, you seemed content to wallow in self-pity for the rest of your life_, _choosing the mortals over your _duty_."

"My duty- ?" the thunderer seemed completely flummoxed.

"I needed you on the _throne_, you imbecile!" Loki snapped. "Not wasting away on Midgard! Do you have any idea how difficult it is to rule a people that never imagined they would need to swear fealty to a _monster_? The lesser, untrustworthy, deceitful second prince? A seiðmaðr and argr? No, I suppose you wouldn't. You've always been the _beloved_, foolishly _brave_, war-mongering crown prince - the Allfather's favorite son and heir. No," Loki raised a hand when Thor made to protest, continuing in a rasping voice. "You were _always_ meant to be king. If I had wanted to rule Asgard, Thor, I would have ruled _through you_. The Æsir would have had no trouble obeying you; as a warrior society, they would settle for nothing less than a warrior King, and not one of them would think to look past your golden visage to notice the second prince pulling your strings from the shadows."

A part of Loki took sadistic pleasure in the way Thor gaped at him like a particularly stupid fish. The rest of the Avengers were either wide-eyed or frowning, and Jane was squeezing Thor's hand. Loki would have preferred to have spoken with Thor in private - he wasn't comfortable with the amount of information Thor's comrades were gleaning from Loki's rant, but it was impossible to take it back. He was as good as damned anyway, might as well continue.

"If you'll recall, I never told the Destroyer to kill you. Merely knock you around for a bit, making a show of endangering your precious mortals so you would _man up_ and prove yourself a better king than you were before your banishment. If that didn't work, then you would have been wounded enough that the Allfather would remove the binds on your godhood, lest he risk losing you permanently."

"And if neither of those options worked? Then what?" Thor's mortal woman demanded indignantly.

"Then I would have called off the Destroyer, gone to Midgard to heal Thor, and then _smacked him around myself_ until he found a way to prove himself to Mjölnir."

"But he could have _died_!"

"Then wouldn't that be a shame for you," the god sneered, though the expression was more of a dangerous baring of his teeth than anything else.

Thor had stopped gaping, but now he possessed a perplexed, disappointed frown that was probably intended to make Loki feel chastened. "And Jötunheim, brother? Why did you unleash the Bifröst upon the frost giants' realm?"

_I couldn't let those monsters live to remind me of who I really am._ "It was a far cleaner, quicker option than war, Thor. You would have led the Æsir into battle, sacrificing thousands in an effort to bring peace. In utilizing the power of the Bifröst, Jötunheim would have been destroyed without further risk of bloodshed on Asgard's behalf. You had been eager to do the same before your banishment, though with your own hands and not the observatory. I was only finishing what you started, but I never risked my comrades in the process."

The thunder god flinched at the accusation, remembering Fandral's brush with death. They would have all died that day, if Loki had not warned the Allfather of Thor's plan. "I've changed. I would never seek to destroy a race... not any longer. No one deserves such a fate, or such a mark on their conscience."

Loki smirked inwardly, seeing the gobsmacked and reproachful expressions directed at Thor. The Captain's was by far the worst - if disappointment was a person, then Rogers fit the bill quite nicely. The Thunderer had just inadvertently admitted to attempting genocide not three years previously, in front of his friends no less.

"Wait," Romanoff chimed in, her eyes narrowing towards the Trickster. "You admitted to never feeling a desire to rule. Yet you invaded Earth with the intent to conquer and subjugate us humans and appoint yourself as king of our planet. Care to explain that stunning reasoning?"

The woman thought Loki to be cornered by her logic. _Hah_. "An effective cover. Had the Chitauri doubted my 'ambition', they would have never granted use of their armies to invade Midgard. It suited my purposes, and worked out quite nicely in the end, wouldn't you agree?"

"What?" the agent's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "But we won!"

"And I allowed it," Loki rasped, crossing his arms. "Believe me, darling Widow, if I had truly wished to conquer Midgard, you wouldn't have known until it was far too late. I don't require an army to invade your realm. I only need words, and a little time, to have your world leaders wrapped around my finger. As a woman who relies on manipulation and stealth, I'm sure you can understand the benefit to such tactics."

Before she could reply, Thor interrupted. "Words have always been my brother's most lethal weapon."

"That's why you needed the gag," Banner frowned. "But didn't Natasha out-manipulate you on the Helicarrier? She found out your ploy to use the Other Guy."

Loki sniffed, mildly affronted. "She's crafty, for a mortal. But the interrogation had been under my control from beginning to end. If I had wanted to conceal my intentions, then I would have. Easily. I _wanted_ SHIELD to believe I had plans for your other half, Banner, and I wanted you to be listening in on the conversation. By believing I wanted to use the Hulk for my benefit, your anxiety rose. You became wary, stressed, afraid that you would lose control and play into my hands.

"The other Avengers and SHIELD began keeping a closer eye on you, placing further restrictions in an effort to maintain control. You felt trapped, stifled, and your control over the Hulk wavered as a result. Compounded with the attack on the base, you simply could not stop your charming green friend from emerging, and added to the general chaos. This had the added effect of sowing dissension among your peers, and increasing their desperation to stop me.

"By the end, I had successfully removed two of the Avengers from the equation, if only temporarily, and one of SHIELD's major assets. Afraid and bent on vengeance, those left of you banded together in a last-ditch effort to halt the Chitauri's invasion and my plans, as I knew you would. But you were tiring, unable to hold on much longer, even when Thor and Banner rejoined your little posse, and your world leaders felt desperate enough to force your hand.

"Through their determination and your ridiculous self-sacrificing nature, you destroyed the Chitauri and secured the Tesseract. In a single move you successfully crippled my enemy and sent the one item He was determined to possess to the most well-guarded realm in Yggdrasil. You played right into my hands, and you didn't even realize it."

With a satisfied smile and an aching throat, Loki leaned back against the leather cushions of the sofa and waited for the inevitable explosion.

* * *

**A/N:** **I'm ba-a-ack.**** I am so sorry for the long hiatus, but my muse decided to take an unauthorized vacation to Oneshot-ville and didn't even have the decency to leave a good-bye note. I've written this chapter about nine different ways and none of them seemed to fit well, but I finally found a version that is acceptable. I hope it wasn't disappointing after such a long wait and so many expectations!  
**

**We'll go more in-depth with the individual Avengers in the next chapters. This was more of a Loki-rant and filler. Now, I'm sure many of you are going '_Huh_?' after reading this, and I don't blame you. I'll try to answer most questions in the next chapter, but I needed to find a stopping point in this one or risk an almost 4,000 word chapter turning into 8,000+. **

**Updates should return at a steadier pace. I'm also going to post this story on AO3 (under the same Username and title), because why not? Hope you lovely readers enjoyed this chapter!**


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**DISCLAIMER:**** I do not own Thor, the Avengers, or any of the characters. I'd like to think only the plot itself belongs to me, though even that is heavily influenced by the movies. Only thing I own is the television I used to watch them and the computer I use to write this thing.**

**WARNINGS:** **None.**

* * *

"You mentioned an enemy before. 'He' you called him. But who, exactly, is 'He'?"

Though the atmosphere of the room was incredibly tense, not all of the occupants were determined to be stubborn, prideful children. Loki had watched with mild amusement as Barton leaped from his seat, intent on ineffectively strangling the Trickster after his admissions. He never got far, of course - Thor had been on his feet and shielding Loki in less than a blink of an eye, and Romanoff had kept a discreet hold on the archer's jacket through Loki's speech, anticipating an explosive reaction. A pity, really. Loki would have enjoyed watching Barton drive himself to hysterics once he realized that a mortal's strength stood no chance against Æsir flesh - for while Loki might be a Jötunn by blood, his Æsir disguise possessed the same strengths as if it were his genuine form. His skin might be a tad frigid, but for all intents and purposes he _was_ Æsir for as long as he maintained the guise.

After his almost-attempt on Loki's life, Barton had been banished to a corner of the room, glaring petulantly at the wall while Mjölnir pinned him to the ground (Thor had easily slipped the hammer's hilt through Barton's belt loop, despite his protests). He was effectively trapped by his pants to the floor, and no amount of squirming would free him. Barton had warned that he wasn't above stripping to escape his predicament, but his threats were ignored by the majority of the room.

Hawkeye had not been the only one to react unfavorably to Loki's speech. Romanoff's pride was obviously smarting, and any moment she thought Loki wasn't looking (he was, but why let her in on the secret?) she would scowl with unmistakeable envy in his direction.

Rogers, for his part, seemed fairly disturbed by the knowledge that Loki had - for all intents and purposes - danced circles around them, orchestrating far more than they had ever imagined he could. The Captain was skeptical when it came to all this 'god' business, but it was glaringly obvious that Thor and his brother were far ahead of humans both physically and mentally - though Thor remained baffled by much of human technology. It was obvious that between the two, Loki was the scholar and Thor the warrior, though even Loki could hold his own against the super soldier and the Hulk, without any of his voodoo witchcraft. Steve refused to believe any of this magic stuff was real, either. It was probably just science that they didn't understand yet. Right?

The ones who appeared to take Loki's admissions best were Thor, Pepper Potts, and strangely, Bruce. The scientist had stopped looking so green around the edges, and had even nodded once or twice to himself during the mischief god's speech. He was frustrated that the Trickster had managed to manipulate his emotions in order to get to the Hulk so damn easily, but it wasn't as upsetting as he had imagined. It made a strange sort of sense, actually. For all the Hulk's strength and ferocity, Loki had been able to pinpoint Banner as the weakest link, had been able to see the green storm brewing just under the surface.

From what he'd read of the myths - and he'd looked through quite a few in recent months, determined to find some connection, or lack thereof, between the God of Mischief in legend and the foe that they had defeated a year ago - the Loki they fought had seemed dissimilar to the Trickster in mythology. The personalities, mannerisms, none of what he'd read had matched up to the crazed, reckless, and easily beaten villain they'd faced. Granted, myths were just that - myths - but how could the God of legend be the same as the broken trickster who'd led the Chitauri?

But after hearing the details... Bruce had to admit to himself, that _this_ Loki was starting to seem uncannily similar to the wily, cunning, and cruel-but-not-totally-evil-most-of-the-time god of old. Thor appeared to be exactly like his mythological counterpart, though Banner couldn't quite imagine the Thunderer being synonymous with the god of fertility. Now _that_ was just disturbing, in Bruce's opinion. But nevertheless, the major aspects seemed to add up, and the holes in his perspective when it came to the God of Mischief were now, finally, beginning to fill in.

He was still frustrated at having been played, however.

The scientist's mind was practically overflowing with questions he wanted to ask Loki - beginning first with how damn old he and Thor actually were, because the Thunderer never felt the need to offer that particular bit of information when the Avengers had assembled. It was one question Bruce was almost afraid to ask, because he wasn't sure he'd be able to fathom the number.

Banner was sure he wasn't the only one with questions - Stark nearly had an aneurysm when Loki tapped his fingers on his thigh and aglass of water appeared to just... _pop_ into existence. Not just Tony, though - everyone except Thor had jumped nearly a foot into the air at the sudden occurrence. Now, obviously he couldn't have just _created _the glass and water, that went against all basic principles of mass and matter... and it wasn't an illusion either. Loki was clearly sipping the water, adam's apple bobbing with every swallow. (Bruce would have to remember to ask why the god sounded like a... well, like he had a bad case of strep throat. Did Asgardians even get sick?) But that had to leave some sort of transmutation... did he change the molecules in the air into the goblet and water? Did he use something else? There simply had to be some sort of scientific explanation, because the idea that Loki could actually _create_ things was just...

_It would be just like Loki to make us throw everything we know about science and the universe out the window. And enjoy watching it happen. _

Thor didn't seem particularly bothered by Loki's magic. He'd even succeeded in getting the trickster to give him one of his own through the most pleading, puppy-eyed look Banner had ever seen. By the color of the liquid in Thor's mug (_that looks disturbingly like one of Stark's coffee cups..._) it sure wasn't water. Something alcoholic, maybe? He doubted Loki would poison the Thunderer, but Bruce wasn't one-hundred percent sure about that.

Stark, most likely in an effort to distract himself from his thoughts, had taken the opportunity to get everyone else who wasn't a god drinks. The room had grown eerily quiet, the only noises being quite sipping and the clink of glasses, and Banner was starting to wonder when the silence would be broken.

Rogers had been the first one to speak. "You mentioned an enemy before. 'He' you called him. But who, exactly, is 'He'?"

All eyes turned to Loki, who hadn't moved from his regal perch on the sofa. The Trickster cradled his glass, staring into the drink with the smallest frown. "He is called Thanos the Eternal. It was He who ruled the Chitauri. He who found me when I fell."

Thor sucked in a sharp breath at the name, and his face grew more grim with every word his brother spoke. He did not volunteer any explanation for his behavior, however.

"Fell?" Jane asked, looking just as confused as everyone else in the room. Loki seemed genuinely surprised by her confusion.

"Thor never mentioned- ? No, I suppose he wouldn't. There were far more pressing matters to attend to at the time- such as fighting me. No doubt Thor felt it to be useless information."

The thunder god frowned then, looking a little hurt. "What was I supposed to tell them, brother? That some how you'd managed to come back from the dead, twisted and crazed and Hel-bent on vengeance? That I'd thought I lost you forever, lost to the abyss? That you _let g-_"

"Enough!" Loki snapped, eyes flaring with a green fire. His expression practically screamed _Shut up!_ at the thunderer, who fell dutifully silent. "It is no concern of mine what information you deemed prudent to share with your friends. It matters not. I will have to start from the beginning, regardless, for your mortal's sake." Loki gave Jane a pointed look, though it was more of a scowl.

"Brother, are you sure you wish to..." Thor seemed worried, for Loki's sake. But the trickster simply waved him off.

"You need not _coddle_ me, Thor. It is in the past, and while _you_ might be shamed by my actions, I certainly have no such compunction." Thor flinched, nodding reluctantly.

"Now," Loki vanished his goblet, fingers clasping together. "On Asgard, there is a magical construct known as the Bifröst. It is connected to a bridge, glittering with arcane power. This rainbow bridge runs through Asgard, all the way to the edge of the realm, where the Bifröst stands. The bridge fuels the construct, powering the observatory with ancient magic. This enables any who use the Bifröst to travel to any realm in Yggdrasil, within the span of a few seconds. It opens a temporary rift within the fabric of the universe, creating a tunnel of sorts through what is simply known as the Void."

"The Bifröst is an Einstein-Rosen bridge? The one that transported Thor and the Destroyer here?" Jane asked, her voice a whisper of awe.

"Of a sort," Loki answered simply. Jane was shocked he even knew what she was talking about. "It would be impossible to explain the specifics in your mortal terms. You simply do not possess the necessary vocabulary to describe the more advanced elements of the construct.

"The Bifröst is incredibly powerful. It is held open just long enough to send or retrieve living beings and objects across the realms. Should it be held open for an extended amount of time, the power will build to devastating levels, and destroy anything it is pointed towards. Within the span of an hour, perhaps two, it could obliterate an entire planet if left unchecked."

It was clear to see that the mortals were horrified. Even Thor, who already knew of the devastation of the Bifröst, looked slightly ill.

"I attempted to use this power against Jötunheim, the realm of the frost giants. My kin," Loki grimaced at the admission. "Thor fought to stop me, and as we battled, the Bifröst continued to rip Jötunheim apart. In a desperate attempt to stop the construct from wreaking more devastation, Thor used Mjölnir to destroy the bridge. It worked too well.

"With its' source of power shattered, the Bifröst ah... exploded. The tunnel between the worlds was cut off abruptly, leaving a gaping hole in the fabric of Yggdrasil where the Bifröst once pointed. It was a tear which opened into the Void, consuming anything sucked inside. I... fell. And I was lost in the Void."

Thor's eyes flashed towards Loki at the lie, but he said nothing, for which Loki was grateful.

"I knew almost immediately that I had not died, not completely. I've been to Helheim and heard tales of Valhalla from the Einherjar. But the Void was none of those things. Even the secret paths between planes do not cross within the Void. It is chaos. The deepest, most encompassing darkness, and the brightest flashes of light. It is sound and silence, hot and cold, pain and pleasure. It tears at your spirit, the very fabric of your existence unwinding under the terrible onslaught. It picks at your sanity, leaving frayed threads in its' wake. It is an endless plummet, falling for eternity. It is cruel and beautiful and terrifying, it is the absence of reality, of reason. Of time. I felt as if I had been falling for centuries one moment, and the next as if only a few seconds had passed. Without my seiðr, my magic, as an anchor and a shield, I would never have survived as long as I did. Even then, a part of me died in the Void. A part I shall never find again."

Nearly everyone was wide-eyed and pale, even Barton. Loki's face was blank, but his clasped hands were trembling faintly. He'd never given voice to the true horror of the Void before, with good reason. Even the tortures Thanos put him through could never match even a fraction of the suffering he'd been subject to inside the Void. His nightmares always centered around the terror of the Void outside Yggdrasil. He doubted anything in all the Nine Worlds could frighten him nearly so far, and no pain could ever compare.

"How'd you get out?" Banner asked, dark eyes studying the god carefully. He wasn't the only one to notice the way Loki seemed to draw into himself.

"Thanos found me. Plucked me from the Void as if I were no more than a doll floating down a river. He brought me to the realm of the Chitauri," Loki gave a ragged little laugh. "I could hardly string two thoughts together, much less fight him. My seiðr was drained completely, something I had thought impossible before my fall."

"I thought your seiðr was nearly infinite," Thor said, though it came out as more of a question. "You're the most accomplished seiðmaðr in all the realms. Even the Allfather does not possess your skill in magic."

"I'm confused." Stark raised his hand, looking a bit frustrated at his lack of knowledge when it came to magic. "What's a seiðmaðr? And are you saying that your power is infinite? Glass that's always full?"

"A seiðmaðr is one who is proficient in the arcane arts," Thor answered before Loki could.

"_Highly_ proficient," the Trickster interrupted. "Magic is infinite. It is the energy certain beings are able to tap into, drawing directly from Yggdrasil. The world tree's power cannot be used up. It is a river which never runs dry. This river has separate streams, smaller flows that tap into the main river. These streams are an individual's magic. Seiðr uses up very little of the water in the streams, thus they are replenished before there is any chance of running dry. The streams vary in size and capacity, and they represent a being's raw power. Their source of power never runs dry, the only strain being a person's physical ability to handle excessive amounts of seiðr.

"I could use every spell and curse and trick in my arsenal, and the only thing to tire would be my body, not my magic. Nothing could drain my access to seiðr, my stream. But the Void is an exception to that rule. It rends and tears at both physical bodies and magic. It envelops both the physical, magical, and spiritual planes, destroying all it comes across. In a desperate attempt at survival, I used my seiðr as a shield, to prevent the Void from harming my body. In a way, it was like giving my right arm to save the rest of my limbs, and it worked. For a while.

"The Void drained my stream of seiðr faster than the river could refill it. I'm still not entirely sure how long this went on. A year and three weeks had passed between my fall and my journey to Midgard, and I was lucid for several weeks in the Chitauri's care, at the end. But the time in between is a mystery to me, since I was unconscious for an undetermined amount of time after my rescue from the Void. I could have been falling for months, weeks, or a few days."

"Heimdall could not see you." Thor told him quietly. "Not even when you were with the Chitauri. How could that be? Heimdall can see everything within Yggdrasil, unless it is cloaked with seiðr. But only you are able to do such a thing."

"I am not entirely certain if the realm of the Chitauri lies within Yggdrasil, or in the Void. It is also possible that it rests just outside the branches, rather than within like the other realms. It might even be on an entirely separate plane. It was thought that Thanos was banished by the Allfather to the Void outside Yggdrasil, but the Void does not touch every plane. It is possible that Thanos found a way to take shelter on a different plane of existence, one untouched by the darkness. It would explain the ease with which he plucked me from the Void. With seiðr, one can travel through the planes with relative ease, if you have the knowledge of it. It is how I am able to access the hidden paths, which reside on a different plane of existence which can only be reached with seiðr."

It seemed like only Thor and Loki were following the discussion. Even Stark and Banner seemed a little lost, and promised themselves that somehow they would find a way to grill Loki on the specifics of his 'seiðr' and 'Yggdrasil' and 'planes' later.

"So, Thanos found you. Then what happened?" Rogers asked, in the hopes that it would direct the conversation away from all this mumbo-jumbo.

Loki smirked at him, and something in his eyes told Steve that the god _knew_ how uncomfortable he was making him.

"I'm not entirely sure what happened while I was unconscious. Once I woke, I found myself in the realm of the Chitauri. It was no more than a few asteroids, strung together by stairs and crude architecture. A hundred thousand Chitauri aircraft orbited around the realm, though none of the creatures set foot on the center rocks, aside from the Other. The titan himself was there, the Other at his side. It was relatively easy for Thanos to then take my mind, already shattered by the Void, and pick through my memories and knowledge. I was able to glean a little bit from Him as well, but not very much. Enough to realize what He wanted from me, and the purpose I would serve."

"What purpose was that, Loki?" Pepper asked quietly, resting her hand on the god's arm.

Loki didn't bother shrugging the hand away. "To bring him the Tesseract. He wishes to court Death, offering the gifts of extinguished life. He wishes to destroy Yggdrasil, all of its' inhabitants, as a gift to Death. But He cannot touch Yggdrasil- the Allfather used his seiðr to bind Thanos, keeping him out of the world tree and away from its' realms. With the cosmic cube, however, he can bypass the wards and enter Yggdrasil. He would use the Tesseract to enter Asgard, and steal the Infinity Gauntlet, and the scattered gems. With the gauntlet, He can destroy everything, and I do mean everything. He can unmake all that the Celestials created.

"He offered me Midgard, to rule over. I would have Earth, he would have the universe. Of course, I could easily see this as a lie. A farce. He might be an Eternal, but I can still spot any lie he might weave. No, once I gave him the Tesseract, he would destroy me, and Midgard. Along with everything else. But if I refused, he would simply control my mind and _make_ me bring it to him. The Mind Gem works on gods as well, and I did not wield it yet. I formulated a plan, a way to keep my free will and thwart his attempts at possessing the Tesseract.

"I would play at obedience, act the perfect puppet. I would be sent to Midgard and find the Tesseract, while turning the mortals against me. I would make them desperate to stop me, and - when the right time approached - lead the Chitauri to the slaughter. Unlike Thor, _I_ know how far human weapons and culture have advanced. I visit from time to time; I find it fascinating how beings with such short lives seem to expand and adapt so quickly. I realized that, if I gave you the opportunity, you would use your weapons of mass destruction against the Chitauri hordes. By allowing you to beat the army and myself, I ensured that the Tesseract would be returned to Asgard, where Thanos would be unable to take it."

"And if I hadn't gone to re-direct the nuke?" Tony asked, crossing his arms.

"I would have," Loki answered succinctly. "Though my seiðr was weak still, I had enough power to change the trajectory of your bomb if needed."

"I'm curious," Steve told Loki. "If you're so powerful, why was it so easy to beat you? Thor went up against the Hulk and was barely scratched, but you took quite a beating."

The god sighed. "You must understand that Thor is of a different race than I. He is Æsir, while I am Jötunn, a frost giant - and a runt, at that." Loki grimaced. "Ordinarily, I change into an Æsir form, taking on the qualities and strengths of the race as if it were my true lineage. But I was weak, after the Void and Chitauri. I could only maintain an illusion of an Æsir form, rather than a full transformation. With an illusion, I only _looked _like an Asgardian, rather than truly being one, physically. Jötnar, while extremely strong, can be wounded a little more easily than Æsir. Add the fact that I was weak, magically drained, and fatigued, and the Hulk was able to damage me much more easily than if I were at my full strength."

Banner looked like he wanted to apologize, but Loki was faster. "I forgave your green friend long ago. I am perfectly fine now, there was no lasting damage."

Bruce gave a jerky nod, looking away to stare into the fire. Everything was uncomfortably quiet for several moments, until Thor spoke up.

"Does Thanos know you tricked him, brother?"

Loki raised an eyebrow, and pointed to the window behind him. The dark, rolling clouds were thicker than ever, and the lightning struck brighter and more often. Thunder rolled, far louder than any storm Thor had cooked up, and the air outside remained unnaturally still.

"Obviously."

* * *

**A/N: Another chapter for you! Sorry about the wait!**

**Hopefully the magic explanations weren't completely confusing. I tried to explain how I always imagined Loki's magic to work, but I think it made a lot more sense in my head. :/ **

**Next chapter will have a bit more talking, but we're starting to get closer to the action now. And more plot twists. This story is _far_ from complete. *sigh***

**Review? I love hearing from all of you!**


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**DISCLAIMER:**** I do not own Thor, the Avengers, or any of the characters. I'd like to think only the plot itself belongs to me, though even that is heavily influenced by the movies. Only thing I own is the television I used to watch them and the computer I use to write this thing.**

**WARNINGS: None.  
**

* * *

"So why _are_ you here?" Rogers frowned, pinning Loki with a searching gaze. "You'd think Asgard would be much safer, with the threat of Thanos coming after you."

The God of Mischief kept his expression carefully blank, fingers of his left hand absently rubbing the scars of his lips that his magic hid from view. "Not as such. I would rather be most any where else than Asgard, to be frank."

"But why?" Natasha insisted.

"Reindeer games here was straight-up tortured." Tony supplied helpfully, ignoring the poisonous glare sent towards him by the Trickster. "Thor broke him outta jail and smuggled him here."

"I do believe _I _was the one who opened the hidden paths- " Loki protested, only to be cut off.

"Tortured?" Steve's voice was sharp as he leaned forward. The concern in his expression brought a scoff to Loki's lips.

"Surely you expected such a thing? You did hand me over to face Asgardian justice, did you not? What, you couldn't possibly believe that I would be let off with a warning after all the damage I wrought!" the god was visibly incredulous.

"We figured that you'd be sentenced to some time in prison, not tortured!" Rogers answered vehemently.

The Trickster rolled his eyes, leaning back against the couch. "You mortals are so terribly naive. I would have likely been executed if Thor had not protested on my behalf. There is no mercy for a traitor like myself."

"But you had your reasons," Banner frowned. "If you'd just explained- "

He was interrupted by Loki's abrupt burst of laughter, head thrown back as he cackled, the sound rasping and slightly unhinged. Several of the Avengers jumped in surprise at his unexpected reaction, and one or two even appeared concerned.

Once the god had calmed, he looked to each person in turn, eyes dark and fiery in spite of his apparent mirth from before. "You are labouring under the misconception that I was actually offered a trial. No, I was spirited away without so much as an opportunity to defend my actions. I could not have asked for a hearing either; not with that charming metal gag SHIELD so helpfully supplied. My judgement was swift and uncontested, the Allfather eager to hide me away where I could shame him no further. Not before giving my guards leave to do whatever they wished, of course."

Thor's head hung in shame, hatred and fury coursing through him as he recalled everything that had happened to his beloved brother. The hatred he felt was mostly directed at himself - he'd not once imagined that Loki was being harmed during his imprisonment. Their father had never been so cruel before, at least not that Thor knew of.

"He wished for me to suffer for ruining his family, for betraying him. To feel pain until age killed me, for the wounds, while painful, were not enough to end me."

"Brother," Thor looked towards his brother in confusion. "We are immortal. You would not died of old age- "

Loki raised one skeptical eyebrow. "You are aware that I was forbidden the taste of Iðunn's apples, are you not? My lips were bound and I was never offered the juice, either. Odin Allfather intended for me to rot away in my prison beneath Asgard."

Thor sucked in a sharp breath, staring with wide, disbelieving eyes at his brother. "No..."

The younger god chuckled mirthlessly. "Yes. Good thing you arrived when you did. I was already beginning to go silver as the ages caught up to me." And wrinkly. That was entirely unacceptable, in Loki's opinion.

"You don't look any older," Romanoff accused. "Besides, how would you have aged so quickly? A year isn't long enough to cause such drastic changes."

"I hadn't tasted the fruits of immortality for two years," Loki corrected. "Since I fell from the Bifröst. The older a god is, the faster they age without the apples. If you withheld the fruit from a god of, say, three hundred summers, it would take several decades for the changes to become apparent. But a god of our age- " Loki gestured to himself and Thor. "would see the effects much, much more quickly."

Stark looked fit to bursting with questions, raising his hand like an impatient student waiting to be called on by a teacher. "How _old_ are you guys? Seriously, I've been wanting to know this since I met you two."

Loki and Thor shared a glance, Thor giving a hopeless shrug. The Trickster sighed, resting his chin in his hand. "A couple thousand years, give or take a century. Thor is slightly older than I, by - how long was it, Thor? Seventy-three years?" The thunder god frowned in thought, nodding in confirmation after a moment. "It is pointless to keep track of the exact number; when you are a god, time has less meaning than it does to mortals. We have no need to number the years we've lived, since it is likely that most of us will remain until Ragnarök. Mortals' lives are finite, giving you more of a wish to track your age, a countdown to your deaths. We however feel no such inclination."

The humans digested this information for a minute, looking rather unsettled. They hadn't truly expected Thor and Loki to be so, well, old. But it made sense, they supposed. By the time the thunderer and trickster appeared in mythology, so much had already happened to them.

Many of the eyes in the room looked to the Thunder god, and noticed that he did seem ever so slightly older than they had last seen him, the glow of youth dimmed a small amount.

"Thor hasn't had the fruits for a few weeks, therefore he appears to only be a few Midgardian years older. To put it in perspective, Thor would be in his late twenties if one went by appearance only."

Banner frowned. "What about you, Loki? You look the same, if thinner than the last time we saw you. And to be fair, you didn't look too swell then either."

The god shrugged, looking slightly uncomfortable. "I am using my magic to hide my appearance. It is a surface illusion, akin to a glamour. I hadn't possessed the energy during my last visit to Midgard to hide my full appearance at the time. Only the worst aspects."

Thor cast his eyes towards his brother, almost accusingly. "Why did I not see signs of age with you after we came to Midgard weeks ago? You were completely exhausted, surely you hadn't the power to disguise yourself then."

Loki's lips were pinched as he glared defensively. "By the time the blood and grime had been washed away I had regained enough strength to add another layer to my glamours- "

"But you were still injured! Do not tell me you were truly expending energy to _hide your wrinkles_ rather than using it to heal properly!" Thor sounded appropriately exasperated. Loki bristled furiously, but said nothing. "You have such strange priorities, brother."

"We cannot all age as gracefully as you, oh mighty thunderer!" Loki snapped, scowling. "I had healed enough, there was no cause for worry."

"You were exhausted and hurt!"

"I was _fine_!"

Thor threw his hands into the air in vexation, but knew there was no more point in arguing. "Well you need not continue to hide. You are among friends here."

Loki gave a disbelieving snort, stubbornly looking away. Stark cleared his throat, watching Loki hesitantly. "Thor's right, reindeer games. No one cares if you've got a bad case of old age. Hell, even I've got some wrinkles. It doesn't matter."

The god frowned while Romanoff continued. "Besides, it'd be a great way to play on our sympathy."

Loki's eyes narrowed in bafflement. "Are you... _asking_ me to remove the illusion?"

"Got it in one," Tony answered, giving the Trickster what he hoped was an encouraging smile, though he wasn't too sure it worked when Loki looked at him doubtfully. "C'mon gramps, there's nothing to be afraid of. Like Thor said, we're all friends here." Barton scoffed from his corner.

Loki pursed his lips briefly, considering the request. He scanned the faces around him, searching for any duplicity or mocking. He found nothing but pure curiosity, no signs of any hidden agenda, not even from Romanoff - and though she thought otherwise, Loki could read her just as easily as anyone else. Even Barton was watching from his exiled corner of the room, grudgingly curious.

Loki did not answer verbally, but instead let the illusions melt away, leaving himself uncomfortably exposed. He could see in the reflection of the window as his hair, far longer than he had ever worn it, seemed to grow more ashen, the raven black strands interspersed with silvery gray hairs. He held back a sigh as lines in his skin began to appear, at the edges of his eyes, the corners of his mouth, and a few on his forehead where the skin pulled as his eyebrows pulled together. His face thinned a bit, his skin losing much of its' youthful glow, though his eyes remained as bright as ever, even framed as they were with dark circles.

Scars appeared around his lips, the same tone as his skin but thicker and raised, marks from both the incident with Brokkr the dwarf where his lips were sewn with thick leather, and the small lines where he'd torn his lips away and couldn't quite make the marks disappear. He would forever bear those scars, hidden or not. Faint, almost invisible lines stretched from his eyes past his jaw, where the skin had been burned with serpent venom while he'd been imprisoned. They almost seemed like tear tracks, forever etched into his flesh, and Loki found them utterly hideous.

He scowled towards his reflection, but the expression was brief as he schooled his face into impassivity. His throat bobbed with a swallow as he clasped his hands together, turning to meet the gazes he could feel burning into him.

"Well?" he snapped, perhaps more harshly than he'd intended. But his exposure made him feel defensive, and he had half a mind to recast the illusions though he made himself wait. The silence of the room was oppressive, stifling, until Thor chose to break it with a snort of mirth.

"And you say _I_ age gracefully, brother?" The thunder god rolled his eyes, studying Loki carefully. "Your scars have healed nicely. I can scarcely see the marks of the venom. It truly is a pity that dwarf threaded the leather so high, or the scars would have been lost when you removed the cord several nights ago." He frowned at the memory.

Loki shared the expression, scarred lips turned down in a grimace. "A pity indeed. Though I blame the dwarf for using such thick material and that hideously large awl, rather than my pitiful skill with healing seiðr at the time. I suppose it matters not - they will be hidden regardless."

His brother sighed. "I wish you wouldn't. There is no shame in displaying your scars, brother. Or your wrinkles," he added cheekily, just as a pillow rose off the couch and into the air, flying at the thunderer's face before he had the chance to duck.

"Fool," Loki muttered, allowing the pillow to float back to the couch after it had thumped Thor several times while the thunderer just laughed. He was the only one, though Foster did crack a smile. Everyone else, however, only had eyes for the trickster. More accurately, his scars.

Rogers swallowed, giving Loki a narrowed look. "I think," he began slowly. "that you should tell us what exactly happened to you on Asgard. What they did."

The way Steve said it made Loki's hackles raise immediately. "Is that an order, Captain?" he sneered, not waiting for a reply. "It is none of your business. It happened, it was punishment, and I escaped. Nothing more."

"But- "

Loki quelled him with a glare, rising from his seat on the couch. He replaced the illusions over his scars, though he didn't bother with the ones to hide the signs of his aging. "I've answered enough of your questions for tonight. I am certain you have more than enough information to give your organization," his eyes darted towards Romanoff, Barton, and Foster. "and I am fatigued. If you will excuse me."

No one attempted to stop him. Loki passed by Thor, and without breaking his pace dropped something in the god's lap. As the door shut behind the Trickster, Thor looked down to see the black thread which had bound his brother's lips, now thankfully cleaned. He brushed a thumb over the cord, and even with his meager senses for magic he could feel the cord was no longer enchanted. It appeared Loki had found a way to undo the Allfather's work, as Thor knew he would eventually. Even weak as he was, the trickster still possessed raw power to rival the Allfather's, and a knowledge of seiðr that far surpassed any sorcerer's in the nine realms. With his voice back, it would have been child's play to remove the magic from the string.

Thor sighed, absently knotting and unraveling the string, feeling his companions' gazes upon him. He understood what Loki meant by giving him the thread as he left the room. It was the trickster's silent way of asking Thor to offer the answers Loki was too uncomfortable to give. The god was allowing Thor the permission to reveal what he himself would not; more than that, he was _asking_, pleading with Thor to do it, for Loki wouldn't be able to bear the pity he was sure to find directed towards himself should he remain in the room for the following conversation. Well, Thor wouldn't disappoint his brother.

But oh how he dreaded this task.

"My friends," Thor looked up, face steeled with determination. "Ask your questions and I will answer to the best of my ability."

The interrogation lasted the rest of the night.

* * *

**A/N: There are many opinions when it comes to Thor and Loki's ages. I've seen people say they were a mere few hundred years old as well as straight-up dinosaur age, and everything in between. If we went strictly by the events in the movie _Thor_, then the war between the Æsir and Jötnar happened around 965 A.D. Logically, Loki was born during the war, being that he was an infant at the war's conclusion. That would make him roughly 1050 years old, give or take. But in my mind, I always felt that Thor and Loki, while young for Asgardians, were much older in human years, around two-three thousand years old. This is simply how I've always viewed them, whether or not it's canon in Marvel and mythology. To be honest, I don't care. They're still old farts either way! :D**

**A note behind Iðunn's apples: a lot of information pertaining to the fruits of immortality varies. Mythology is very vague, so I felt the need to explain how I believed it would work were they real. The more years that someone has lived while eating the fruits to preserve themselves, the faster the effects are felt if the apples are taken away. I always wondered why some gods (like Odin) were gray-silver haired and, well, old looking while other gods who ate the fruits were not. In my mind, the explanation is this: in myths, Loki is forced by Thjazi to give Iðunn away. With no one to tend to the orchards where the golden apples grow, the gods grow old in appearance. But we see that only _some_ of them look old, while others still seem young. In my mind, this was due to the fact that, for those weeks when Iðunn was gone, the really, really old gods (age-wise) grew physically older much faster than the younger gods. This is why only some, like old man Odin, seemed to be much older than the other gods and goddesses, while others, like Thor, did not; even though they all eat the apples of Iðunn. When Iðunn returned, and the apples grew again, those who looked older remained that way, because the apples preserve the appearance of the ones eating them at the time. If they had wrinkles while eating them, those wrinkles would be preserved. I don't know if that makes any sense, but it's how I see the mechanics behind the myths in my mind. **

**Anyways, review my lovelies! You keep me going!**


	20. Chapter Nineteen

**DISCLAIMER****: I do not own Thor, or any characters/situations within. No money is being made from the fan-written work of fiction.**

**Warnings: ****Cursing and references to bestiality in myth.  
**

* * *

Thor had scarcely begun explaining when the alarms in the tower went off.

The Avengers leaped into action with furious exclamations, scrambling for their weapons. Stark was demanding Jarvis for a report while he summoned his suit; Steve grabbing his shield and Natasha readying her firearms. Barton nearly flew through the air when Thor summoned Mjölnir, the hammer's hilt only barely sliding out of the agent's belt in time. Hawkeye cursed the thunder god even as he nocked an arrow, rising to his feet and following Banner out of the room; the scientist was ready to go green at a moment's notice. Jane gave Pepper an alarmed glance, but allowed the other woman to drag her into a safer room.

"Jarvis? JARV? The hell is going on?" Tony questioned, pieces of his armor attaching themselves seamlessly to his form.

'Sir, I detect intruders on the ninety-third floor balcony.' The AI's voice rang loud and clear for the Avengers to hear, those who couldn't fly heading in a run towards the elevator while Stark and Thor went through the windows. (Tony making sure to open them first before flying outside. By the sound of shattering glass, he guessed Thor didn't feel the need to be as careful.)

"How many?"

'Two, sir.'

"Hostiles or friendlies?"

'Mr. Odinson seems to be conversing with one of them at the moment. He has lowered his weapon.' Damn, Thor flew fast.

Tony increased the power of his thrusters, heading towards the top of the tower. He didn't want to miss a word, and if Thor ended up deciding to attack, Tony wanted to be there when he did.

As he approached the balcony, Tony spotted three figures on the repaired balcony (Thor and Loki made a mess of the structure during the fight last year). Thor was there, gesturing wildly as he spoke to a woman, completely decked out in armor similar to Thor's. Tony had to admit, from what he could see the woman was beautiful in a deadly sort of way; she held herself in much the same way as Natasha would, if the agent was more of a warrior and less of an assassin. The way she held herself was where the similarities ended, however. The woman was taller than Nat, almost but not quite as tall as Thor- and she wasn't wearing heels, either. Her hair hung in dark, wavy strands down to the middle of her back, and her eyes glinted with a fierce focus. Next to the woman was a huge shape, and as the lightning flashed Tony could see-

Holy _shit_ how did a horse get on his roof?

Stark knew he was gaping as the face of his helmet retracted to afford him a clearer view. He flew forward, landing much less gracefully than he would have if he'd been paying any sort of attention to his surroundings. He was completely focused on the beast standing next to Thor and warrior princess. It stood at least four, no- five feet taller than Thor, possibly more, and seemed to be built like a warhorse rather than a racing breed, though Tony couldn't be sure as he'd never been particularly interested in equines before. What he was completely sure of however, was that _normal_ horses _did not_ have eight entirely healthy-looking and not the least bit deformed legs. That wasn't _normal_!

He was almost sure that the horse was giving him a haughty glare, black eyes with the slightest hint of green studying him and then dismissing him as though he were nothing important. The horse- he was sure it was a stallion- flicked its' tail in Tony's general direction before giving a snort, turning its' head to look at Thor and the woman. Tony felt a wave of indignation rise within him; he was _not_ just _dismissed_ by a _fucking horse_.He was Tony fucking Stark, it was supposed to be the other way around!

Inside through the glass he could see the elevator opening and the rest of the Avengers piling out. Loki was there too, looking slightly disheveled and annoyed; likely wishing he hadn't needed to share an elevator with his previous enemies.

_But we were never his enemies to begin with, were we?_ Tony mused. _Just a means to an end. Mortal puppets to dance on his strings._

The Avengers piled onto the balcony, raising their weapons towards the woman and the freaky horse. Tony noticed with a start that the female was holding the Tesseract, contained in a much more Asgardian-esque container than the one SHIELD had made to house the cube. So the Tesseract was back on Earth again. Shit, Loki was going to be _pissed_.

The Trickster was last to arrive, but when he did he made a beeline towards the horse, completely ignoring the Tesseract and the dark-haired woman. The stallion whinnied, but not in alarm. _That must be some brave fucking horse, cause if Loki ran towards me like that, I'd be putting on the reverse right away. _It almost sounded happy, confusing as that thought was to Tony, and one of its' four front legs kicked out in an excited stomp. The God of Mischief had both his arms wrapped around the horse's thick neck, and it was plain to see that his attention- usually focused on everything at once- was concentrated solely on the massive equine. Tony frowned, watching carefully. Something seemed similar between the two, but he couldn't figure out what.

The stallion nickered, lowering its' massive head to bury its' nose in Loki's long hair. The god rubbed the stallion's neck with a long-fingered hand, seeming more relaxed than he had in weeks. The horse snorted, ruffling Loki's hair in a small gust of wind, and Tony realized what looked similar between them. The horse's mane and coat was the same raven black as Loki's hair- without the silvery strands. The god was whispering, and Tony had to strain to hear him.

"Shh... I'm fine... all is well. Yes, I am certain; worry not. I have missed you so..." Just as Tony thought things couldn't get any stranger, Thor clasped forearms with the warrior lady in a weird handshake and then moved to go ruffle the horse's mane affectionately.

"Sleipnir!" The Thunderer boomed, grinning. The horse huffed but didn't move out of the weird hug-cuddle it had going on with Loki.

Tony was confused, flabbergasted even, but Banner was actually spluttering in wide-eyed shock at the horse. "Sleipnir? _The_ Sleipnir?"

Thor beamed, giving the stallion's flank a hearty pat. "Aye, Sleipnir! The fiercest, swiftest, most powerful steed in all the Nine Realms! You know of my nephew, son of Banner?"

Tony felt his brilliant brain stutter to a painful stop, before kicking on again twice as fast. Nephew? _Nephew?!_

Loki was giving Thor an admittedly terrifying glare over the horse's lowered head, his expression clearly telling Thor to _shut the hell up before I murder you_. Tony was sure the scowl would have been strong enough to burn any lesser man. Or, god. Whatever. Thor, of course, was oblivious to his brother's sudden ire.

The warrior woman took one glance at Loki's face before clearing her throat pointedly, cutting off anything Thor might have said. "Thor, you have not yet introduced me to your mortal allies! Queen Frigga would surely be disappointed with your manners," Thor had the grace to look sheepish. "I, am the Lady Sif of Asgard. Goddess of War, the Queen's honor guard, and Thor's shield-companion. It is truly an honor to meet Midgard's fiercest warriors in person. Thor speaks very highly of your bravery and strength in battle." She bowed gracefully, holding her right fist over her heart in a gesture of respect.

Tony blinked owlishly, suddenly nervous. How the hell does one act around a female Asgardian? Tony doubted she would be impressed with his charm, she seems to much like Natasha.

The Black Widow doesn't miss a beat, copying Sif's actions. "I am Natasha Romanoff, known by some as the Black Widow; Agent of SHIELD and Avenger. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Sif."

Sif smiled approvingly. "I must say I was delighted to learn that one of Thor's mortal shield-companions is a woman. I look forward to knowing you better, Lady Natasha. Perhaps we could spar some other time." Tony would pay to see that.

Barton recovered first out of all the men, taking Natasha's lead. "I'm Clint Barton, also called Hawkeye. I'm also an Agent of SHIELD and an Avenger."

"Ah, the archer! It is said that you cannot miss your mark, and your sight rivals that of the sharpest hawk." Clint looked pleased.

Tony's voice had decided to work again, and he was determined not to be outdone by Barton. "And _I_ am Tony Stark, a.k.a. the brilliant Iron Man. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist at your service. I must say, it is wonderful to meet such a lovely lady like yours-"

His words were cut off by a bemused-looking Sif. "The Man of Iron. Thor told me your charm rivaled Fandral's, with an ego larger than Volstagg's stomach. I can see now that my friend was not exaggerating."

Before Tony could ask if that was a _good_ thing or not, Steve cut in. "I'm Captain Steve Rogers, group-leader of the Avengers. It's nice to meet you, ma'am."

Sif lit up. "The Captain of America! I would very much like to study your shield some day! I am always looking to improve my own- " Sif held her own gilded shield aloft, eyeing Cap's enviously. "Thor says yours can block Mjölnir in its' tracks. That is a _remarkable_ feat, Captain."

Steve looked faintly bashful. "Thank you, ma'am."

The Goddess of War looked to Bruce next, watching him expectantly. He coughed nervously, "I'm Doctor Bruce Banner, miss. But you're probably more interested in the Other Guy- the Hulk. He's the one who does the fighting..."

Sif grinned. "I was surprised to learn of a mortal who could shift his form without the use of seiðr. Thor praises your strength and your mind equally, doctor. He speaks of the formidable opponent you make, and the loyal comrade. I would very much like to see you and Thor spar!"

Banner's eyes widened briefly, "That might not be the best idea. When I'm in my other form I tend to... break things."

Sif waves away his concern. "Of course. Mortal buildings are so very fragile. Though you would have no trouble on Asgard, I assure you." Thor nodded in agreement.

Bruce laughed nervously. "Well, I'll keep that in mind next time I visit..."

Tony cleared his throat, directing the attention back to himself. "That's nice and all, but someone wanna explain to me why there's a horse on my roof?"

Sleipnir gave Stark an unimpressed look, tucking his head more firmly against Loki's shoulder. Sif started at Tony's words, almost as if she hadn't noticed the horse three feet to her right. "Of course. The Allmother instructed me to bring Sleipnir along, and has ordered he be sheltered here until further notice." She moved to Sleipnir's side, fiddling with a bag attached to his saddle while Tony gasped indignantly.

"Um, no! No fucking way! I have a strict 'No Pets Within Fifty Feet' of my tower rule. Sorry, but he's gotta go-... are you listening to me?"

Sif ignored him, reaching into the satchel and withdrawing two small, golden fruits, handing one to Thor and Loki. "She instructed me to offer these as well. Loki certainly looks like he needs one," she glanced pointedly at his face, unfazed by the glare he offered her. Thor was already biting into his apple.

"Are those- " Banner began, shocked.

"Iðunn sends her regards. Or she would, if she didn't still hate you," Sif tells Loki with a smirk, watching the gods eat; Loki considerably neater than Thor. The God of Mischief was savouring each bite, holding the fruit in one hand while he took the satchel with the other.

"Do we get any?" Tony asked, hopeful. Sif shook her head, crushing his hopes like a leaf under her boot.

"Nay, the apples cannot be consumed by mortals. You would be poisoned with no hope of an antidote should you consume even one bite."

"But- "

"Enough," Sif snapped. "There is only enough for the princes to divide between themselves and Sleipnir. There is no telling when more will be available, so they will have to ration what has been brought very carefully." She looked to Loki who nodded in understanding, trapping the apple between his teeth as he took the satchel in both hands, performing a strange twisting motion with his wrists. The Avengers watched in awe as the bag seemed to fold and wink out of existence, Loki nonchalantly grabbing the fruit once more with his free hands and finishing it, core and all.

The Trickster seemed slightly healthier; the sick pallor to his skin and the dark circles beneath his eyes had returned to normal, though he still looked older. If Tony had to guess he'd say the god looked around his late forties, maybe early fifties, but still handsome. Lucky bastard.

"I'm still not letting the horse stay. No way, no how." He insisted stubbornly. Loki raised an eyebrow and scoffed.

"You do not have a choice, Anthony. I am not allowing my son to return to Asgard where Odin can reach him. He would only be a target for the Allfather's wrath, as Frigga doubtless knows." Loki rubbed a hand along Sleipnir's neck. "Until my seiðr has returned to full power, I cannot bring him to Helheim to be guarded by my daughter. For the time being, he will remain where I am."

"But horses are _dirty_. My tower is not a stable!"

Thor laughed. "You do understand that Sleipnir is my brother's son? There is no neater equine in all the Nine Realms, nor one more intelligent than my nephew. You have nothing to fear of messes."

Tony looked unhappy. "I don't believe this... stupid gods telling me what to do in my own home." He ignored Thor's confused _("But we are outside?")_ "It stays in your room, Loki, got it? My house is not some freaky zoo."

The bastard simply smirked, placing his hand underneath the warhorse's chin as it snorted gustily. "Of course. Thank you, Stark."

Thor turned to Sif. "What of Fenrir?"

"He is still bound," she says. "But safe. I know not the fate of Jörmungandr, and I expect Hel-Queen is well." She looks to Loki for confirmation.

"Jörmungandr is here. The protections I wrapped around him millenia ago still hold fast. He sleeps undisturbed. Hel can take care of herself."

"Who?" Steve asked, looking just as confused as Tony felt.

Surprisingly, it was Banner who answered, rather than the Asgardians or Loki. "They're Loki's other kids, right? A- a wolf, a snake, and a, well..."

Loki smirked, though his eyes were cold. "Correct. Hel is the Queen of Helheim, guardian of the dead not living in Valhalla. Jörmungandr is a very large sea serpent, resting here on Midgard at the bottom of your oceans. I have powerful seiðr-wards keeping him hidden and protected from your mechanical eyes and sensors. Fenrir is imprisoned below Asgard, locked away from all. He is the largest wolf known to the realms."

The Avengers shared alarmed glances. Tony laughed, slightly hysterical. "I guess bestiality is a thing on Asgard, huh?"

The Trickster rolled his eyes_, _thoroughly unimpressed by Stark's reaction. Thor wasn't happy either; he looked like he would enjoy bashing Tony into a pile of scrap with Mjölnir given the chance. Sif was simply amused.

The Thunderer gave Stark a glare, turning to face the goddess. "Now, tell us Sif- how fares Asgard?"

Sif's amusement melted away, replaced with a frown. "Not good, Thor. Unnatural storms cover the skies, much as they do here," she looks upwards briefly. "Asgard was the last to be affected by them. The other realms are covered as well, save Svartálfaheim. Malekith the Accursed has declared war upon Asgard, and from what I have heard he has allied himself with a being called Thanos."

The two gods suck in a collective breath, Thor sharing an alarmed look with the Avengers. "When did this happen?"

"Mere days ago. Information has been scarce- Heimdall cannot see beyond the clouds, nor can the Allfather upon Hliðskjálf. Our only means of divining information is through the King's ravens, who always return worse for wear. We have no means of going to the other realms for aid, and the Bifröst repairs take far longer than they ought."

"Does Odin know you took the Tesseract?" Thor inquired.

"Nay. Only the Queen. She has requested that it be kept here, safe, as well as this- " Sif takes another bag from Sleipnir's saddle, handing it almost warily to Loki. "It belongs to you, loathe that I am to hand it over."

The god pursed his lips, taking the sack and looking inside with a frown. "I see," he says simply.

"What does the pouch contain, brother?" Thor asks warily.

"The Casket. I had thought it lost after the Bifröst was destroyed."

Sif shrugged. "It appeared once more in the weapons vault, nearly a month later, with nary a scratch. It had us all baffled."

Loki frowned. "It could be a false copy, or cursed in some way. I will need to check at some point." He vanished it the same way he had the satchel of apples. "Does the Queen intend for you to remain here, Lady Sif? I cannot safe-guard the Tesseract if you must use it to return to Asgard."

She nods. "It is no longer safe there. I was able to simply take it from its' pedestal. Anyone and their mother could have done the same."

The Lies-smith grimaced. "Security has grown lax in my absence and imprisonment, it would seem. That I had not intended." She gave him a curious look but chose not to pry. "Is there anything else you need to bring from Asgard before I lock the cube away?"

She sighed. "The Queen intends for me to remain here, safeguarding Midgard should the war reach this realm's borders."

Tony was indignant. "Are we not enough to protect Earth, or something?"

The goddess sneered. "You have never fought Dökkálfar. The Chitauri are lambs to the slaughter compared to the dark elves. They fight with magic, they are intelligent, and fierce warriors."

Barton rolled his eyes. "We handled Loki. These elves can't be any worse, can they?"

Sif, Thor, and Loki all burst out laughing, making the Avengers jump in surprise. "Loki hardly fought!" she chortled. "We saw the whole thing from Asgard, from Heimdall's perspective. You were nothing more than children, whacking an adult on the shin with a wooden sword. He allowed you to win, even in his weakness."

Thor nodded in agreement. "My friends, Loki nearly matches me in combat, blow for blow, without his magic. As much as I- and all of Asgard- mock him for his tricks, my brother is a powerful seiðmaðr. Even when we fought two years past on the rainbow bridge, he barely used his seiðr, only casting a few illusions to distract me." Thor gives Loki a puzzled frown. "I still do not understand why. I have seen my brother fell an opponent with nothing more than a few whispered words and a flick of his fingers."

The Trickster sighed. "I was keeping you occupied while the Bifröst did its' work. I never truly wished to harm you, irreparably. It would have worked had you not cheated."

"Cheated!" Thor cried, aghast. "Pray tell, how was I cheating?"

"You pinned me to the bridge with Mjölnir, you imbecile! That was a foul move, and you know it!"

"Ah, but you could have continued the fight even pinned as you were. You are able to wreak as much havoc standing still as you are on the move."

"I could scarcely breath with that damned hammer crushing my ribs, fool, how was I to continue?" Loki asked incredulously.

Thor pointed a finger, "You had enough breath to taunt me for a full minute, and you require no breath to use more than half your tricks!"

"Perhaps I was tired."

Thor and Sleipnir snorted at the same time, obviously not falling for Loki's excuses. Tony was slightly freaked by how much the horse acted like a person.

"It does not matter!" Sif told them, annoyed. "The point is, Loki was toying with you," she told the Avengers bluntly. "You might have 'beaten' him, but not without effort. If you were to go up against an army of Lokis, fighting little harder than he did when he attempted to take over Midgard, would you win?"

The Avengers shared another glance, thinking. Would they? Loki had been able to hold his own against Steve in Stuttgart, fought Thor and held his own on Asgard, and tossed Tony out a window like he was a paper weight. _Would_ they stand a chance against an army like him?

_Shit._

"If Asgard proves too costly to attack first, then Svartálfaheim might decide to target Midgard next. With the Bifröst gone, no reinforcements will arrive in time to help. You will need our help." Sif stated simply.

"Asgard has the Valkyries and Einherjar in addition to its' living warriors. The dark elves have magic, but with enough numbers working against them the odds will be reduced. As it stands, the other realms have their defenses against such an attack- even without Asgard's aid, making Midgard the weakest link. Lady Sif," Loki turned to the woman. "I am not at my best strength, and my seiðr remains weak still. It would be wise if you returned to Asgard and gathered the Warriors Three. Bring them here, for Midgard will need their aid more than Asgard."

She gave him a long, searching look, before surprising everyone and kneeling to the Trickster. "As you say, my prince. Oh, don't look so surprised," she chided, watching shock flash across Loki's expression. "The Queen still sees you as her son, and you were never publicly disowned, not even after your imprisonment- strange as that may be. Your title remains, and even if it did not..."

Sif sighed. "For however brief a time, you were King. While I was never fond of you, I cannot deny your dedication to Asgard was true. You sought to end the war with Jötunheim, without bloodshed, and though Asgard would have been ready and willing to die in battle, your methods aimed to protect the people of the realm. We did not understand your motives at the time. Even now, much of it confuses me, but you are still my prince and I am sworn to obey the royal family of Asgard. My mistress, the Queen, trusts you, and thus I do as well."

She stood, nodding her head to the Avengers and Thor; even Sleipnir received a bow. "I will return shortly with my shield-companions. We may speak more after I return." Without any more ceremony, she activated the Tesseract and disappeared in a flash of blue light, leaving five shocked Avengers, two Norse gods, and an eight-legged equine behind her.

Inside, the elevator opened and Pepper and Jane stepped out, running to the group.

"What did we mi- is that a horse?"

* * *

**A/N:** **How was the chapter? More characters have been introduced, and more are on the way. **

**I am completely screwing with canon, I know. I have read very little of the comics, and most of my knowledge comes from the movies and the information I can find online. Even then, I've changed a great deal to match my own plans for the story. _To Rescue A Trickster God _is not going to follow the canon storyline- and T: TDW is no doubt going to completely screw with this entire fic as far as plot, but you can forgive me, right?**

**Review, lovelies! There used to be so many of you who enjoyed and commented on my story, where did you go? It's probably my fault for disappearing for so long, I guess. But still, I love your feedback! Thank you everyone who has enjoyed and reviewed so far!**


	21. Chapter Twenty

**DISCLAIMER****: I do not own Thor, or any characters/situations within. No money is being made from the fan-written work of fiction.**

**Warnings****: Implications of non-con.  
**

* * *

The mortals were unsettled by Sleipnir's presence, Thor noted.

It... disappointed him. He saw no reason for there to be such a fuss. Sleipnir was a highly respectable, fiercely intelligent stallion, and Thor was proud to have such a unique nephew. His equine form mattered little to the Thunderer, for his nephew's mind was as sharp as a blade. True, Sleipnir was unable to speak to any besides Loki and the Allfather, but he _understood _everything. Thor worried his nephew was hurt by the mortals' reactions, that he felt unwelcome, and that frustrated the god more than he could express.

His ire was tempered, however, by Loki's delight. His brother did not express such emotions outwardly, but Thor knew Loki long enough to detect the sparkle of joy behind his brother's mask. He was overjoyed to have his son with him again, and Thor couldn't imagine how much it had hurt Loki to be away from Sleipnir for so long.

Sleipnir took every opportunity presented to him to express his affection for his dam; nuzzling Loki's cheek with his massive snout or burying his nose in the Trickster's hair. He nickered lovingly in the Trickster's presence, intelligent eyes never leaving his mother's form unless his attention was needed elsewhere. He tucked his large head against Loki's heart, snorting in concern even as the god whispered assurances. It warmed and simultaneously broke Thor's heart, and it infuriated him to see how none shared the sentiment.

The mortals thought Loki's relationship with Sleipnir _unnatural_. They would not- _could not_ understand the depth of the bond between his brother and nephew. Even Jane, precious Jane, did not accept it, and for the first time Thor felt... betrayed in a way, by his friends.

For this reason, and others, Thor eagerly awaited Sif's return with the Warriors Three. Though Asgard had never ceased taunting Loki for the manner behind Sleipnir's conception, not caring that it wasn't his brother's intention, they did understand the intelligence behind the stallion's eyes and the respect he commanded. Though he was only used as the Allfather's steed, Sleipnir was still- by Æsir law- considered royalty. Doubly, no- triply so now that Loki's heritage had come to light. Loki was still a prince of Asgard, and through blood a royal of Jötunheim. Sleipnir's half-sister was a Queen in her own right as well, leaving no doubt that Loki's son, no matter his form, was royalty.

Sif, Volstagg, Hogun, and Fandral understood this, in ways the mortals could never fathom. They knew Sleipnir demanded respect, and had _earned_ it in the many battles he'd participated in as the Allfather's warhorse. He had killed and defended in the name of Asgard, crushed countless skulls under his mighty hooves and taken many an arrow and blade to defend his King, making him more than worthy in the eyes of the Æsir. Oh, Asgardians still whispered their vicious rumors, their insults of _ergi_ and _argr_ targeting Loki for his actions, but it didn't dismiss the fact that Sleipnir was a warrior in his own right, his royal blood and achievements in battle made the stallion more man than his physiology ever would.

It was for this reason that Thor wished for his friends' presence on Midgard. Perhaps the mortals would understand, if they saw the way the warriors acted around Sleipnir, and give his nephew the respect he deserved. He'd seen the way the Avengers had reacted when Sif bowed to Thor, Loki, _and_ Sleipnir; their shock had thickened the air like poison. Thor didn't approve, but he held fast to the hope that relations would be better. In time.

Yet he couldn't help recalling Anthony's words, shaking and unsettled as he stood upon the balcony. _"I guess bestiality is a thing on Asgard, huh?"_ Stark had seemed uncomfortable and tense, and Steven had a look of disgust directed towards Loki and Sleipnir. It made Thor's blood boil; for the first time since he'd met his mortal companions, he was angry with them. Sickened, in fact, by their narrow mindedness. They wouldn't bat an eyelash if Loki kissed a man, or Thor dressed as a woman (he determinedly refused to think of the incident with Thrymr), but they condemned Loki's son for having the form of a horse, caring not that the circumstances were out of Loki's control. Svaðilfari...

_He is dead!_ Thor reminded himself viciously. _Loki saw to that. Vengeance was meted out, there is no use dwelling on the past._

But the mortals...

_Perhaps they do not know_, a reasonable voice in Thor's mind chimed in. _The mortals never asked__ if it was Loki's choice._

Aye, but they ought to have, Thor thought. They never bothered to inquire. He wasn't surprised to learn how much that disappointed him.

_They are not bad people. They simply misunderstand._

Well, Thor was reasonably certain they would come around in time. But he imagined that it would be beneficial to have his long-time shield companions here as well.

It would be several hours, he presumed, before Sif returned. It would take time to round up the Warriors Three, and ensure they had everything they needed while seeing to it that the Allfather did not suspect a thing until they'd already left for Midgard.

Thor sighed, grabbing a box of popped tarts from the eighty-second floor's kitchen and made his way to his brother's rooms. It was silent beyond the door, but this didn't surprise Thor over-much. His brother had a penchant for using magic to dampen sound and ensure privacy. He knocked and waited patiently for the door to open and bid him enter.

It swung open of its' own accord, allowing Thor to step over the threshold. He glanced around in mild surprise; the room had expanded, the ceilings much higher than before and more floor space was available- no doubt to accommodate Sleipnir's massive frame. His nephew had lied down on the floor, his long neck craning to rest in Loki's lap. His brother sat cross-legged beside the stallion, leaning back against his son's flank. He had a twinkle in his eyes, and his lips twitched as if attempting to contain laughter.

"Something amusing?" Thor asked, flopping carelessly onto the floor across from his nephew and brother.

"Some_one_," Loki clarified, eyes darting down to see Sleipnir give a gusty snort. Thor grinned.

"Is he telling you all the mischief he's been up to during your absence?" the Thunderer asked, excitedly. He'd heard servants and stable hands alike complaining during Loki's imprisonment, cursing the equine prince most vehemently. He'd been the most uncooperative, ungrateful, snotty horse they'd ever had the (dis)pleasure of working with, the months of Loki's torture. The Allfather had even complained to Frigga that the 'brat' had bitten him right on the rump and kicked him in the stones when the Allfather had attempted to ride him. The Queen had told Thor, and the two had a great deal of fun laughing about it despite the worry they felt for Loki.

"Oh yes," the Trickster confirmed, scratching Sleipnir's ears with a proud smile. Out of all of Loki's children, Sleipnir was the most prone to mischief when he felt it was warranted; particularly when he felt his dam was not being treated fairly. _How_ he knew, Thor was not sure, but the stallion had begun his merciless crusade almost immediately after Loki was brought back to Asgard and imprisoned in the dungeons.

Thor wasn't sure it could even be called mischief. Sleipnir had been vicious, trampling stable hands and servants and chasing after guards like a wild animal. The only ones who had been spared were those who stayed out of the stallion's reach. Even Frigga had been unable to calm her grandson, though Sleipnir never hurt her.

Thor watched, behind the smirk, as Loki's worry shone through and warred with his joy. "You are very lucky the Allfather chose to not retaliate," he told his son, who gave a very loud huff through his nose, and Thor was sure the stallion was saying something very impertinent to Loki through their bond if the way his brother harmlessly flicked the horse's ear was any indication.

The Thunderer grinned. "I must confess I am envious, brother, that you should be able to hear Sleipnir's words but not I."

"It takes a certain finesse with seiðr that you sorely lack," Loki told him, as he had so many times before in the centuries since Sleipnir's birth. His voice was firm, taking on a lecturing quality, yet his eyes shone once again with teasing mirth. It was something that Thor hadn't seen from his brother in many years, and he triumphed inwardly at its' return.

"Brother..." Thor began, after several moments of silence. "Are you..." _Afraid?_

Loki glanced up, studying the Thunderer's expression with a frown. Years of reading Thor allowed him to predict what had been unsaid. "No. Not, I think, in the way you would expect."

"How then?"

The Trickster pursed his lips, running his fingers through Sleipnir's mane as he considered. "The world will go on without us, Thor. One way or another, there will always be another Cycle, another life, another opportunity to live on. Yggdrasil is not the only tree in the forest, and the others will go on even if one perishes."

Thor nodded, looking out the window. "And if the forest is destroyed? The trees burnt to ash and the soil barren and dry?"

Loki hummed, following Thor's gaze to the clouds outside. "That, I think, is what I dread. Thanos will not be content with Yggdrasil- not if he is truly committed to pleasing Death. If he finds his hands on the Gauntlet... It is for that reason, I worry," Loki sighed, gazing at Thor determinedly. "He has the Void and he has the dark elves. But he does _not_ have _us_."

Thor swallowed. "Aye," he agreed thickly. "He does not."

"Alone, I doubt any of us could face him and win. But we are not alone. For a time, I- I thought otherwise. I am not ashamed to admit that I have been proved incorrect in that belief. You have allies, companions, and family to support you and join you in battle. They've allies of their own as well. Right now, we are scattered. But with the Tesseract..."

Thor's eyes widened, "You have a plan?"

"Thor," he chided. "I have plans within plans within plans. They hinge upon certain roles being filled, of course, and the cooperation of those we associate ourselves with... but as long as specific pieces of the board move where they ought, then I think we might possibly stand a chance."

The Thunderer smiled wide, but the expression soon fell. "The Allfather opposes you. It will be difficult, with him against us as well- even distracted by war."

"Hmm," Loki agreed. "For now he is not as much of a threat. I must give Thanos credit, these storms of his are quite useful."

Grimacing, Thor nodded reluctantly. Any mention of the Titan sent his blood boiling with rage. The monster had hurt his brother, Thor was certain. Perhaps not as much as the Void had, but he had no doubt that the Titan had not been gentle. He watched Loki carefully, feeling a rush of protectiveness and pride for his brother. Loki had gone through so much, but he hadn't shattered. He was stronger than many warriors Thor knew, he realized. As he watched his brother run his long fingers through Sleipnir's mane, an idea came to him, sudden and swift- causing his heart to give a leap of nervous excitement.

"Loki?"

"Yes Thor?" the Trickster asked disinterestedly.

The thunderer fished in his pockets, still not entirely used to the Midgardian garb he'd been given. He would need to remind Loki to give him his armor back at some point. He found the thread, smooth and strong, and held it in his open palm.

"I would ask something of you. A favor."

Loki looked surprised as his green eyes fell upon the string. "I'd forgotten I gave that to you. You did not discard it?" Thor shook his head vehemently.

"Nay, never. It is a reminder."

His brother's eyes narrowed, his previous good humor snuffed out like a candle's flame. "Of what? My pain? My failures? The _joy_ of having my silver tongue finally silenced?"

Aghast, Thor protested immediately. "No! Not at all! Nörns, Loki... How could you ever think such things? It is a reminder of _my_ failure to protect you! The absence of my trust when you most needed it, a reminder of the horrors you suffered because _I_ was too much of a fool to realize you needed my help."

The God of Lies did not reply, but his lips were pressed together tightly, in such a way that Thor know Loki dearly wished to protest.

"No matter the circumstances, no matter how horrid it must have been... this was a part of you. It was an obstacle you overcame, your determination knew no pain or limit. It is a reminder that even weak and injured as you were, your strength surpassed all odds and you were triumphant. It is a reminder that no matter how difficult the future will become, it is possible to overcome the obstacles in the path and reach the end. It is a reminder, Loki, for me to be more like _you_."

The Silver-tongue blinked, shocked. "I- I see..."

"I wish to keep it in a more permanent place, brother. Somewhere I will see it constantly, a place where I can display it proudly- a silent proclamation to all who look upon me that no matter what the odds may be, I will be strong like my brother." Thor held his hand further, outstretched to allow Loki to pluck the string from his palm. "Will you honor me Loki, and incorporate this thread into a warrior's knot?"

Loki's lips twitched. "You wish for me to braid your hair?"

"Aye," Thor laughed. "If you please."

The Trickster offered a long-suffering sigh, but Thor could see that behind his mask, his brother is touched. Among the Æsir, some warriors choose to weave strands of hair from those they care a great deal for, be it a spouse, child, or fallen comrade, into their own hair. His father wore a silver braid with strands of Frigga's hair woven with his own, and Volstagg wore one with a hair from each of his children in his beard. It was a token for the warrior wearing it, a reminder of whom the warrior fights for.

"Traditional or simple?" Loki asked, his voice a little hoarse with emotion he couldn't quite hide.

Thor shook his head. "It matters not. I would like it near the front, however." If he turned his head quickly, it would allow him a glimpse of the braid- an additional reminder.

"Are you sure you would not like to share it with another? Perhaps your mortal Jane Foster?" Loki asked, a bit unsure.

"Loki..." Thor leaned forward, determination shining in his eyes. "You are my _brother_. We share not the same blood, but our bond is unshakeable. I would share this with none but you."

The younger god looked into the elder brother's eyes, studying his resolve very carefully. Eventually he nodded, motioning for Thor to lower his head. His long fingers worked deftly, combing through the blonde strands and sectioning them into identical twists. He added the black thread to the weave, knotting and layering the locks of hair in a long, ornamental braid. Thor knew just by seeing the way Loki's wrists move that the Trickster had chosen the more complicated braid of the two, and couldn't hold back a smile. He did not regret this decision, not in the least, and he was truly honored and pleased that Loki had accepted.

Loki fastened the end with a complicated knot of hair, ensuring that nothing short of a blade could remove the hair from the complicated weave. Thor pulled away when bidden, allowing the Trickster's careful inspection from a distance.

"It will do," Loki nodded, secretly pleased with his work. "You do realize the mortals will tease you endlessly over this."

"Why?" Thor asked, not bothered.

"It has been several centuries since this practice was enforced by the majority of the population. Now it is more of a womanly custom to braid one's hair."

The Thunderer flushed but still didn't regret his decision. "I care not. Let them tease, they do not understand the significance."

"No," Loki whispered. "They do not."

Thor placed a hand on Loki's shoulder, squeezing firmly. "Thank you," he says roughly. "For this. For accepting."

Loki blinked up at him, and gave a slight nod. "You're welcome." His lips quirked briefly, glancing down at the hand on his shoulder. "Now give us a kiss."

He continued to laugh long after Thor threw the box of PopTarts at his face and fled.

* * *

**A/N: Personally, I think Thor would look pretty in a man-braid. Am I right? *nudge-nudge* *wink-wink*  
**

**This chapter was a shorter one but at least you guys didn't have to wait a week to read it! **

**Five more reviews till 100! C'mon, we can do it!... when I say 'we' I mean 'you guys'. XD  
**


	22. Chapter Twenty-One

**DISCLAIMER****: I do not own Thor, or any characters/situations within. No money is being made from the fan-written work of fiction.**

**Warnings****: Cursing, disturbing conversations and mentions of past dub-con/non-con, and norse zombies. I'm not kidding.  
**

* * *

Natasha watched the security footage from Loki's room, a speculative frown marring her lips while she analyzed the audio-visual recordings carefully.

Loki had been sitting beside the massive horse on the ground, carding his fingers through the raven mane almost reverently. The crisp images from the camera revealed with startling detail the smile on the Trickster's lips- upturned at the corners and lacking a mocking or sneering shadow behind the grin. It was relaxed and open, and so unlike the god she knew. Before, when he'd come to 'conquer' Earth, as they'd seen it, his smiles had been all malice and stress and scorn, haughty smirks and unhinged grins that send shivers down the spines of whomever looked at them.

Even recently, when Loki had been in their presence once again in the tower, as an- could he be called an ally? Natasha certainly hoped so- acquaintance, rather than an enemy, the quirk of his lips had still held a bitter edge. Not defeated, per se, but _tired_. Much of it was hidden behind his eyes, but Natasha Romanoff prided herself on being able to read even the blankest expressions with ease. Loki was difficult to puzzle out- more so than anyone she had ever met before- but occasionally she caught a glimpse of fatigue in those green, green eyes.

Yet now, through the detailed recordings on the screen before her, she could see a light that hadn't been present in her previous interactions with the god. The images lacked the grainy, fuzzy quality of most cameras, and captured more detail than even SHIELD's highest-quality equipment. Well, Stark did like making his toys the best. She found herself glad for it, however, because it allowed her an unimpeded view of the Trickster's expression.

He was chuckling now, shoulders trembling with mirth as his eyes focused on the horse. It unsettled the agent; there wasn't any apparent reason for Loki to be laughing. No one else was in the room, except the eight-legged horse, and yet it didn't appear as if he were sniggering at a memory. Her eyes narrowed, watching even more closely as Loki's lips moved, his words to soft for her to hear at this volume.

"Jarvis, increase footage audio by eighteen percent." The AI complied with her order, and Natasha listened carefully to the god's words.

_"-punished, you do realize? I daresay it is lucky you managed to escape his vengeful temper- " Loki paused, as if listening to something._

_"No... you know it does not work that way, though I can understand where you managed to draw that assessment." His lips twitched with the beginnings of a laugh, his fingers scratching the stallion's ears._

_"You rapscallion..." he chided, eyes alight with pride. "Reckless child... you could have found yourself in a great deal of trouble you know, and I would not have been able to help you."_

_The horse snorted, raising his head to look Loki in the eyes. The Trickster paused again, quirking his head. _

_"Better," he murmured, rubbing underneath the animal's chin with gentle fingers. "It could have been worse. Much worse. I- " he stopped, watching the equine patiently. _

_"...well, you need worry no longer. I am on the mend, as you can clearly see." His eyes narrowed, but he was smiling again. "Hush. You know just as well as I that it was bound to happen some time. You're not exactly young and spry, either."_

_The stallion nickered, and Loki's smile fell. He sighed, resting his forehead between the horse's eyes, where his brow would be. "I'm sorry. It was not... my intention to leave you behind. I had not been thinking clearly. Information came to light that I hadn't expected... the Allfather revealed his true hand and it- it was so tempting to simply... leave it all behind."_

_Sleipnir huffed, nudging Loki's head. "It will not happen again, child. Not by my own hand. I cannot dictate the actions of others, but I promise I will not leave you of my own volition. Hel would surely have my hide." The horse whinnied, and Loki began to laugh. He ran his fingers along the animal's inky coat, eyes glimmering fondly._

_"Now, return to your story. I am eager to hear the rest of the mischief you wrought in my absence."_

_The horse rested its' head in Loki's lap, and the silence was only broken by Loki's occasional peals of laughter. _

Natasha paused the feed, crossing her arms with a deeper frown. Two possibilities revealed themselves in her mind. One, that Loki was insane or suffered hallucinations. She doubted he spoke to the horse solely for comfort, as some pet owners did in times of stress or boredom. _That_ was normal. But the Trickster genuinely acted as if the animal were speaking to him, which brought her to her next theory.

That _somehow_, through magic or an innate telepathic ability, he truly could speak to and understand the horse. That seemed less likely. Even if he could understand animals, she knew that animals, at least in her experience, did not have the capacity for complex speech and intelligence by way of vocal communication. Mimicry was different, obviously. Plenty of animals could copy human speech; simple words or phrases that they were then rewarded for memorizing. Birds in particular came to mind. But as far as she had observed, the horse had not spoken a word, not one human-like sound other than snorting with attitude.

It seemed far more likely that Loki was simply touched in the head, and enjoyed imagining conversations with his pets. But then Natasha remembered the comments from earlier, out on the balcony...

_"You know of my nephew, son of Banner?"_

_"They're Loki's other kids, right? A- a wolf, a snake, and a, well..."_

_"I guess bestiality is a thing on Asgard, huh?"_

If she deduced correctly, then was it possible...? _Could_ that massive horse be Loki's son?

"Jarvis?"

'Yes, Agent Romanoff?' The AI responded immediately in his smooth, cultured tone.

She considered briefly for a moment. "Bring up everything we have related to Norse mythology. Anything that mentions, even briefly, 'Loki' 'Thor' 'horse' and 'eight-legs'. Oh, and 'children'."

'Of course, Agent.'

As Jarvis revealed articles, websites, images, and book titles, Natasha felt- not for the first time since meeting Thor and his brother- that she was _way_ in over her head.

* * *

"Hey Thor- " Stark waved as the thunder god entered the bar lounge. He stopped dead at the sight of the braid, hanging freely from the top of Thor's forehead down the right side of his face. Tony was surprised with how strangely ornate it appeared, like a seamless series of sailor's knots. It blended easily with the rest of Thor's hair, save for one long, thick, and inky black strand that appeared to have been painstakingly woven into every knot, visible in every inch of the braid and much thicker than normal hair. Something about it seemed familiar to Tony, but he couldn't figure out what.

No matter how expertly woven the braid appeared, it was still hilarious as hell to see _Thor_ wearing it like a badge of honor. "Um- Thor..." Stark choked, trying to hold back his laughter. "You- you have something..."

The Thunderer raised a quizzical eyebrow in Tony's direction. "Pardon? I have what?"

"Your hair- "

To his surprise, Thor beamed, giving his head a great shake to make the braid sway. "Ah, you noticed! I asked Loki to weave it for me, is it not grand?"

He _what_? "Um, Thor buddy... Loki gave you a _braid_."

The Thunder god blinked, nonplussed. "Aye."

"A _braid_. In your hair," Tony insisted.

Thor began to frown. "I see not the problem. Is it displeasing?"

Displeasing? Seriously? "Not- not exactly, per se..." If Tony was being honest with himself, it _was_ kind of fetching. In a strange sort of way. Thor continued to be confused.

"Let me guess: this is some weird Asgardian tradition?"

The god's triumphant grin answered that question easily enough. "It is customary for warriors to weave a token into their hair before war, as a symbol of honor. I am surprised- the last time I had visited Midgard this practice was quite common in northern cultures." He gave a despondent sigh, looking incredibly dejected. "Loki warned that I would face ridicule for this."

He'd wondered why all the Asgardians he met had long hair. Was that so they _could_ braid it? It make a kind of sense, he realized. At Thor's pitiful expression, Tony held up his hands. "Whoa now, I'm not judging you, Point Break. No one cares if you braid your hair. Hell, you could wear a tiara twenty-four seven and I doubt any of us would care. It was just a surprise."

Thor frowned, sounding hopeful. "Truly?"

The billionaire nodded, thumping Thor rather ineffectively on the shoulder. "Yep. Though you might give the Cap a shock. Just don't tell Pepper who gave you the braid- she'll be begging your brother for lessons."

Thor beamed once more. "I am glad you understand!"

He shrugged, moving away to pour himself a drink. "Where _is_ your brother, anyways? I haven't seen him since your lady friend arrived on my balcony."

"He is with Sleipnir, friend," the god answered, taking a seat at the bar just as Clint wandered in.

"The _horse_?" Hawkeye muttered, a distasteful expression crossing his face. The god turned to give him an unamused glare.

"_Sleipnir_," Thor growled. "My nephew has a _name_."

Clint snorted, fixing Thor with a firm look of his own. "Sorry to break it to you Thor, but that animal is not your nephew."

The thunder god bristled, his eyes flashing furiously. "I do not require a mortal to tell me who is and is not my kin!"

"What, so we're just 'mortals' now?" he sneered. "People do not have horse babies! It isn't physically possible!" Barton insisted, squaring his shoulders as Thor moved to stand.

"My brother is a very gifted sorcerer- "

"And _obviously_ he must have stolen the horse as a prank! Slapped on a few extra legs with his magicky stuff and declared the animal his fucked-up offspring as a trick!" Barton insisted, his eyes narrowed fearlessly as the god stood above him.

"You dare insult Loki, and Sleipnir, with your foul words?!" Thor bellowed, his fingers twitching. "You have no idea- _none_! You cannot comprehend what my brother went through- "

"Oh _give me a break_," Clint glared. "Maybe I can believe your brother likes to screw around with horses. But there is _no possible way_ that he could've gotten a mare pregnant! None! They're an entirely different species!"

Thor blinked twice and _growled, _but any retort he might have given was interrupted by the appearance of Natasha.

"It wouldn't have mattered, if he was a horse at the time," she informed Clint, prompting a look of surprise from Thor. "He can change his shape, right Thor? Without using an illusion?"

"Aye..." he answered warily. "How did you know?"

"Mythology can be incredibly informative, when it's telling the truth. There are a lot of stories about you and Loki in human legends," she told him succinctly. "Seems like one of them might have been accurate."

Clint scoffed. "What, so you're telling me that horse might be Loki's son?"

"Yes," her eyes narrowed at the archer. "I didn't believe it at first. But then I started researching, analyzing Loki's interactions with the horse and reading up on Norse mythology. A lot of information adds up."

Thor looked strangely uneasy, almost ill. "What did your research tell you?"

"There was a builder- giant, right?- and his stallion named Svadilfari. The builder offered to build a wall around Asgard, in exchange for one of the goddesses."

"Aye, Freyja." Thor nodded, wringing his hands.

"But Loki, in an effort to ensure the wall was built while keeping Freyja safe, told Odin to place a three-month restriction on the builder's work. If he couldn't finish the wall in that time, he wouldn't be allowed to take Freyja and would be required to finish the wall anyway- on pain of death. He asked that he be allowed to use his horse to aid him, and your father agreed."

The Thunderer looked even more uneasy. "All of what you say is true... None of us expected Svaðilfari to be so strong and fast, and the foul giant was able to build the wall in half the time it would have taken him alone."

Natasha noted his uneasiness with a frown. "Our myths say that Loki was blamed, and ordered to create a plan to stop the completion of the wall. Realizing that the horse was the key to the builder's success, he lured it away in the form of a mare in heat."

Both Clint and Tony reeled in shock. Steve had entered the room sometime during Natasha's explanation, and was listening with a deep frown from the doorway. Thor swallowed nervously.

"He could not have killed the horse," he said quietly. "That would have broken the terms of the arrangement, and Asgard would not be made to look dishonorable. The horse needed to be lured away without the builder's knowledge, or he would have complained. Loki had hidden himself at the edge of the forest where the builder and Svaðilfari were finishing the wall, and he revealed himself to the stallion while the builder's back was turned.

"Heimdall saw everything," Thor explained when Tony made to ask how he knew the details. "He observed as the stallion gave chase to my brother, who fled into the forest- far from the builder's sight and hearing. It wouldn't do for him to realize his horse was missing and call him back to his side. The stallion was fast- much faster than any work horse ought to be. He managed to catch even my swift brother, who had not expected the horse to match him in speed. There was nothing..." Thor cleared his throat, his fists clenched in anger. "Nothing he could do."

"Couldn't he have switched back? Turned normal again and killed the horse?" Tony asked, looking horrified.

"Nay," Thor shook his head. "We were both young at the time; Loki was a mere three and a quarter centuries old. He had only just begun touching the subject of offensive seiðr. Even _I_ had scarcely begun my own weapons training, and Loki had never been offered a proper tutor for learning seiðr. What he knew had been born of natural talent and the books he had managed to sneak into his own quarters from the library catacombs, and his lack of knowledge coupled with his fear made it impossible to turn back in time."

Tony cursed under his breath, sharing a horror-filled look with Steve. He handed Thor a drink, the god accepting the vodka gratefully. "Heimdall told us everything. Father sent me to dispose of the builder, honor be damned, while he and the guards searched for Loki. But my brother fled, disappearing off the face of Asgard though we did not understand how at the time. His shame had given him power, and he'd managed to accidentally use one of the hidden paths between realms.

"The Gatekeeper found my brother many months later, suffering alone as he gave birth to Sleipnir in the forests of Vanaheim. Mother, with her handmaidens, my father, and a contingent of guards, used the Bifröst to travel to my brother's side. They aided and protected him, bringing him back to Asgard after Sleipnir was born. My nephew received his speed and strength from Svaðilfari, and his intellect from my brother. He is the most remarkable steed in all the Nine Realms."

Thor blinked several times, voice thick with emotion. "In spite of the circumstances behind Sleipnir's conception, my brother has never felt anything less than a mother's love for his son. Sleipnir has earned the respect of Asgard through his deeds and bravery, and I _will not allow you to mock him or Loki for this!_"

Steve placed a hand on the upset god's shoulder, looking sick. "Thor, we wouldn't! That's... we didn't understand..."

"You didn't think to ask!" Thor shouted, jerking his shoulder out of the Captain's grip and pacing furiously. "You condemned my brother for birthing what you thought to be an- an abomination, without inquiring after the details! You thought my brother had some sick perversion and you dismissed Sleipnir as some mindless animal! My brother has been through much, and you would _ruin_ his reunion with his son- whom he has not seen in more than_ two years_- with your petty, prejudiced scorn!"

Their eyes widened as Thor continued to rant, gesticulating wildly as he shouted.

"I had thought my friends above this disrespect! You are so accepting and protective of the helpless, the hurt, the oppressed, and the strange; yet you offer my nephew no more than veiled contempt and derision! Sleipnir is a god among equines, a royal of Asgard through title and a royal of Jötunheim through blood! He is a proud warrior and companion, and I will not tolerate your disregard for his presence!"

Wind and rain had begun to attack the windows, the clouds outside impossibly darker with Thor's rage. All of the missing Avengers and Jane had entered the room at some point during Thor's tirade, and were watching the irate god with wary eyes. He swiveled around, looking to each person in turn with a steely gaze.

"Am. I. Understood?" he ground out, noting with some satisfaction as those he stared at wilted under his gaze, acquiescing with silent nods.

No one made a sound for several moments, until finally the silence was broken with a steady clapping from the back of the room, beside the door which led to the balcony.

"Goodness, that was an entertaining display. I fear the mortals might be shaking in their boots!"

Thor spun around, his demeanor changing completely. "Fandral!" he cried joyously.

The sandy-haired warrior grinned, stepping forward to clasp armored forearms with the Thunderer. Tony muttered a sarcastic, "Intruder, Jarv..." but he was ignored.

"My friend, you have arrived!" Thor beamed. "Friends," he amended, seeing Volstagg, Hogun, and lastly Sif enter the tower- all three soaked from the rain.

"Was the storm _really_ necessary?" Sif groaned, handing Hogun the Tesseract so she could ring the water out of her dark hair by the fire. "Now we look like a pack of drowned vargr..." Thor had the grace to look abashed.

"Was your journey unimpeded?" he asked, greeting Volstagg and Hogun.

"Relatively," the dark-haired warrior answered. "It took some time to pull ourselves away from the battle."

Thor looked startled. "With the Dökkálfar? They have reached Asgard already?"

"Not the dark elves," Volstagg corrected. "Draugar. Hundreds of them. Well, _now_ there are hundreds. No one knows yet how much time the curse had to spread before anyone realized what had happened. We've found the culprit, but it was too late to save the ones who had been cursed."

"Draugar..." Thor breathed, shell-shocked. Jane glanced between the warriors before timidly raising her hand.

"Um... what's a draugar?" she asked in a small voice.

Fandral blinked, bowing with a smile. "I remember you! Lady Jane, yes? We met during Thor's banishment."

She blushed. "Yes, I remember."

He looked pleased. "Well, a draugr- draugar is more than one- is the corpse of a fallen being; Æsir, álfar, Vanir, it doesn't matter what race, that has been cursed to move and think for itself- to an extent- even after death."

"Now you're telling me zombies are real too?" Tony groaned.

The Æsir looked confused. "Zombie?" Sif inquired, puzzled.

"Ignore him," Steve said before Tony could answer. "You were saying?"

Fandral shrugged. "Well, they usually appear when a person with magical ability dies and is not disposed of properly."

At the mortals' quizzical looks, Thor explains. "The body is burned, to prevent it from awakening again."

"Mortals cannot return as draugar without outside influence. The passing of the curse from another draugr is the only way for a mortal's body to come back. Such a mishap has not taken place in... a very, very long time, and Asgard was able to learn of the event and deal with it before too much damage had been done."

Thor frowns. "Who did it begin with?"

"A merchant who sold jewelery he enchanted himself, from the Vanir Quarter. He and his fellow were ambushed by cutthroats just outside the market square. Filthy pick-pockets... His fellow fled, the coward, leaving the merchant to be murdered and looted. The man who ran confessed long after the deed had been done, and by then his fellow had risen and cursed nearly a dozen others. It escalated quickly from there," Volstagg explained.

"Guess crime exists on Asgard too, huh?" Tony muttered.

"Rarely," Thor assured him. "Hardly anything slips past Heimdall. Knowing he Sees all is normally enough to keep would-be wrongdoers in line. It is likely that these thieves took advantage of the distraction of war and Heimdall's hindered Sight to line their pockets."

Fandral nods. "Aye, exactly. But the threat was dealt with, and now Asgard prepares once again for war."

"So, what, you don't even care about all the deaths?" Steve asked, annoyed.

The warriors shared pitying glances. "Peace, friend. That is not the case," Volstagg said patiently. "They will be mourned. But they were victims of a dreadful curse they could not control, and they will be well-cared for in Helheim. Hel-Queen is undoubtedly ferrying them across Gjöll this very moment, and will ensure they find their loved ones who have already passed her gates."

The Avengers shared equally confused glances at the rotund warrior's explanation, but didn't comment further.

"Y'know..." Tony began, after a long silence. "So far I'm hearing elves, giants, zombies, magic, and eight-legged horses. Please don't tell me you guys have dragons and flying monkeys, too."

He, and all the other Avengers, ended up regretting the question.

* * *

**A/N:** **I think one of my favorite things to write is Thor&Loki&Sleipnir interactions. I love them to death. I hope I didn't overdo Thor's rant... I just wanted big brother thunderer to noticeably stick up for his 'kin' at least once in this story. Hopefully I made it believable.  
**

**I swear I just wanted an excuse for Loki to call Sleipnir a 'rapscallion', because this is hilariously funny to me for some reason.**

**I think it's long past time for me to make a list of terms that have been used in this story. What do you guys think?**

**_~Seiðr_: magic, or the use of magic. **

**_~Seiðmaðr_: a master of magic/s****eiðr.  
**

**_~Hliðskjálf_: Odin's high seat/throne. He can use it to see things happening within Yggdrasil. My guess is that's how Loki knew Thor was speaking to the Destroyer in the movie- because he'd been sitting on Odin's throne during the attack.**

**_~Nörns_: Prophets or sages that can divine the future. **

**_~Æsir, dvergar, Vanir, Dökkálfar/álfar, Jötnar/Jötunn_: All species of humanoid-like beings in the Nine Realms. Thor is ****Æsir, in Marvel canon, and so is Odin and Frigga.  
**

**_~Gjöll_: a river that runs through Helheimr.  
**

**I am undoubtedly missing some terms. If so, just point them out and I'll add them. **

**Thank you _so much_ to one of my anonymous reviewers for giving me my 100th review! And thank you everyone who has given me your feedback, I love you all! Now let's try to make it to 150 reviews... *shifty eyes***


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two

**DISCLAIMER****: I do not own Thor, or any characters/situations within. No money is being made from the fan-written work of fiction.**

**Warnings****: None.  
**

* * *

They had gathered on the couches around the fire-pit in the wall, everyone except Steve and Jane nursing a glass of alcohol. About half-way through the Asgardians' explanations of various beasts they'd encountered on their travels, Fandral let out an exclamation which caused nearly everyone to jump in shock.

"Ah-ha! I have just recalled- "

The warriors shared a long-suffering look that left the Avengers to feeling like such sudden vocalizations were a common occurrence coming from the swordsman. Nonetheless, it left nearly everyone who wasn't a god full of adrenaline and staring at the warrior in alarm.

Fandral grabbed a travel pack from Volstagg's arms, opening the cloth and reaching inside.

"I took the liberty of, ah... appropriating a few objects from the royal chambers when I'd heard we'd be joining you on Midgard for an extended period."

Thor raised an incredulous eyebrow. "You broke into my family's chambers?"

"Not everyone's. I left the Allfather and Allmother's things well enough alone. I am not _suicidal_, I'll have you know. But still, you would not believe how difficult it was!" He bit his cheek, jostling several objects in the bag. "Yours were easy, Thor. I only had to pick the lock and make sure none of the royal guard came upon m- ah, here."

He lifted several armor pieces from the rucksack, including the gauntlet Járngreipr and the belt Megingjörð, tossing Thor each one in turn. His helmet was last, the silver metal gleaming in the light.

"Loki's chambers were more difficult- I nearly _died_ trying to get his door open. Had to track down a... lady friend of mine who dabbled in curses and wards to open the door... you remember Fulla? Charming young woman, though her hobbies left something to be desired." He set a nondescript leather pouch on the armrest beside him, before diving once more into the bag.

"Anyway, nearly every object in Loki's chambers was cursed- even the _curtains_. Must have been triggered by his absence; I'll give the fellow credit he's very creative, if obscenely paranoid. I nicked as many books and artifacts as I could, though one made a valiant effort to flay me alive when I touched it." Jane gave a tiny gasp. "Well, apparently he has this massive weapons closet; there's a room behind one of the bookcases by the window, and one of the walls is a fake one- an illusion, containing an entirely separate chamber on the other side. I fell through when one of the chests in the corner came alive and tried to eat me- "

Sif sniggered while trying to pass the sound off as a cough. Volstagg was already laughing heartily, and even a few of the Avengers were smiling though hearing a first-hand account of the Trickster's paranoia disturbed them somewhat.

"But I found all his weapons hidden inside," Fandral drew the long, thing and wicked sharp staff from the bag and propped it against the side of the couch. "Lævateinn, Dáinsleif, Gríðarvölr... Dozens, truly, and every single one was cursed against thieves in some way. I had to solve this insane riddle to even be allowed to come within five feet of his throwing knife."

More than one person laughed at that, making Fandral's grin widen.

"But really, you would not _believe_ the things Loki had hidden somewhere on the other side of that wall. Remember the bow of Hödur, Thor?"

The Thunderer nodded in surprise. "Aye. It never misses its' target, and has an infinite supply of arrows," Clint looked like he might faint at the description. "But it was stolen ages ago!"

"Three guesses who stole it. I found it just- _mounted_ on the wall! No telling how long it has been hanging there, collecting dust."

A noise, much like a scoff, sounded from the elevator. All heads turned to see Loki stepping into the room, Sleipnir on his heels.

"I did not _steal_ it," Loki began, affronted. "I _found_ it. The thing was lying in a forest in Alfheim, completely unguarded. It was hidden in the grass- " Volstagg coughed skeptically.

"I am being quite serious. I found it by stepping on the shaft. I could not have allowed such a powerful artifact to lie abandoned where anyone could happen upon it, so I confiscated it," he crossed his arms. "It is not _my_ fault that foolish archer left his own bow laying about with no protection. It gave me an excellent opportunity to study the weapon's enchantments, beside."

Fandral raised his hands in a peaceful gesture. "Alright, I believe you. I would have brought it, but I am fairly certain the magic guarding it would have sliced my head off if I had so much as looked at it wrong." He tossed a case containing a single throwing knife to the Trickster. "I had to sacrifice three drops of blood in addition to solving your mad riddle before I could gather your throwing knife"

Loki smirked, perching on the edge of the couch beside Thor as he inspected the case with a critical eye. "The magic needed to read your intent through your blood before it would allow you to access it. The riddle was purely for amusement."

The Æsir rolled their eyes at the Trickster. He removed the throwing knife from its' case, examining it carefully. "I suppose I ought to be cross with you for infiltrating my chambers, but I find myself too surprised to be properly angered. You did not damage anything, did you?"

"I was careful," the sandy-haired warrior assured him. "Really, Loki, you should be asking if your chambers damaged _me_!"

Loki waved away his affront, summoning Lævateinn and the leather pouch. "You managed to survive with all your limbs intact did you not? But you have my gratitude for going to all the trouble and risk."

The only outward sign of the swordsman's shock was a quick blink of his eyes. He wasn't used to hearing the second prince express gratitude verbally. "Of course."

Thor grinned, holding aloft Járngreipr and Megingjörð. "My thanks, friend, for retrieving my battle gear! Loki has yet to return my other set from whence it disappeared, in the land of retail."

Loki barely managed to restrain an eye-roll. "We wanted to blend in, do you recall? Perhaps you ought to have asked when we came upon the tower. They have just been sitting in my pocket gathering dust."

"Your pocket?" Jane asked with raised eyebrows.

"Figuratively," Loki amended. "It is simply another term for the plane I use to store objects."

Tony looked like he dearly wanted to grill Loki for the scientific details, but before he could speak to ask, the power went out.

Everyone looked around in surprise. The dim, flickering light of the fireplace remained the only light to see by. Through the large windows they could see the rest of the lights in the city wink out, all at once rather than by section. With the heavy clouds blocking out the light of the moon, the city that never slept was completely and utterly without light.

"Nobody panic," Tony said, glancing around. "Any minute now, the backup generators will kick on."

A few shuffled in their seats as the seconds ticked on, patiently waiting for the power to turn back on. They waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Stark cleared his throat, tapping a foot impatiently. The Asgardians shared a puzzled glance. Loki was looking into the fire, his fingers which had been carding through Sleipnir's mane stilled and tightened minutely. Several moments passed, and still there was no sign of light in the tower or outside.

Abruptly, the fire died down, extinguished by an invisible hand. The room was plunged in complete darkness, lit only by the faint azure glow of the arc reactor beneath Tony's shirt. Several of the Avengers cursed, and Jane fumbled blindly for her cell phone. She attempted to turn the device on, but it didn't respond. Loki frowned in the darkness, an uneasy feeling writhing in the pit of his stomach. He summoned a small witchlight in the palm of his hand, gradually feeding it power until the entire room was bathed in a frosty white glow.

"Stark? The generators?" the Trickster inquired slowly. Tony shared a glance with the god and nodded, standing.

"Yeah... Let's go take a look. Someone want to try and find some flashlights?"

Pepper stood as well, linking her arm with Jane's. "We will."

Volstagg got to his feet, joining the two women. "You will need protection should something go amiss. I will accompany you."

Stepping towards the bearded warrior, Loki held the witchlight towards him. He cupped it in his palms gratefully, and though he lacked any skill with seiðr, it remained lit in his large palm. The Trickster summoned additional orbs, handing them to Thor, Sif, Hogun, and Fandral, and finally summoned one for himself. Barton looked peeved.

"Why don't we get one?" he asked, gesturing towards himself and the other Avengers.

Loki sighed internally, glancing towards the archer. "Humans do not possess enough inherent magic to maintain the light. It would fall through your fingers and fade away before you'd be able to grasp it."

Clint didn't protest further, but he still looked a little miffed. The Trickster eyed each mortal and Asgardian in turn, saying firmly, "Do not venture off without company. Should you feel compelled to leave the room, take another with you. Stark and I will return in short order-" Loki glanced toward his son, and though his expression remained impassive, concern permeated his words. "Please do not allow Sleipnir to remain alone."

Sif took a seat beside the stallion, one hand cupping the light while the other drew her bladed staff. "I shall stay with him."

Loki nodded in gratitude, turning to face Stark who looked strangely subdued. "Are we ready?"

At the engineer's affirmation, the two left the room as Pepper, Volstagg, and Jane followed behind.

* * *

**A/N: *sigh* I've written this chapter about a dozen times now, and I'm still not happy with it. But I owe you guys an update, so I've decided to post anyway. We're getting to the action now, slowly.  
**

**Loki strikes me as the kind of guy who hoards magical artifacts. Y'know, for science!... or whatever they call it on Asgard. He also seems like he would leave behind really nasty protections on said artifacts if something happened to him, like imprisonment. Or an extended vacation. But that's just my image of him.**

**Megingjörð and Járngreipr are actually real items of Thor's in mythology. The belt increases Thor's strength, and the gauntlet helps him handle Mjölnir. But since he already works fine with his hammer in canon, let's just pretend the gauntlet is an enchanted fashion-statement. Or something.  
**

**Lævateinn, Dáinsleif, Gríðarvölr, and the bow of Hödur are real artifacts in Norse mythology. I made up the bow's powers, though.  
**

**I think maybe someday I'll write a short oneshot detailing Fandral's adventures in Loki-land (his chambers). I think that would be fun, maybe.**

**Anyways, review my lovelies!**


	24. Chapter Twenty-Three

**DISCLAIMER****: I do not own Thor, or any characters/situations within. No money is being made from the fan-written work of fiction.**

**Warnings****: Slight gore, violence, badassery, etc.  
**

* * *

"Any idea what's going on?"

Loki cut a glance towards Stark, following less than a pace behind as they made their way down the stairs. Signs placed at regular intervals marked changes in floor, and they'd already traveled more than two dozen levels. None of the emergency lights had turned on, much to Stark's consternation, and Loki helpfully supplied witchlights to remain in place on the walls they passed.

"It might possibly be a pulse triggered by the storm," he offered, but the tone of his voice told his companion just how unlikely he found that theory.

"But you don't think so."

The sorcerer smiled bitterly. "No. I do not. I suspect it is a direct attack, though the timing is less than wise."

Tony glanced back, raising an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"It would have been more logical to plan an assault when there were fewer protectors available to this realm. If the ones orchestrating this attack are aiming to target Midgard as a whole, they ought to have done so before you had five notably powerful Æsir and a seiðmaðr at your beck and call. There is a distinct possibility that the attack is aimed at myself and Thor, and disrupting your systems was planned as a bid to separate our forces. If that is the case, then the minds behind this attack should have acted before the Warriors Three and Lady Sif arrived.

"They might be after the Tesseract as well," Loki mused. "Though I have it hidden away, it is possible that- should I be brought to Thanos, or another being of great power- they can reach through my defenses and breach the doorway protecting my plane of objects."

"Can they _do_ that?" Tony asked, a bit surprised. "I mean, I might be wrong, but you seem like a pretty stubborn guy. Powerful, too."

Loki looked a bit surprised at the compliment, acceding with a nod. "You are not wrong. But Thanos is aware of my weakness- the Void. It would be a simple matter to send me back and wait for the destructive powers running rampant through it to whittle away my defenses, and bring me back once he felt confident he could breach my defenses."

Tony looks vaguely sick at the thought. "Right. What are the chances of him doing that?"

Loki sighs, banishing another light to the empty bulbs along the wall. "He would need to be in direct contact with my person in order to accomplish it. Such an occurrence is highly unlikely."

"Why's that?" Stark inquired curiously, glancing towards the sign indicating their current position in the tower with a curse. "Not even close..."

The god looked amused at the engineer's frustration. "I could carry you, if you become too exhausted. No?-" Stark looked mortified by the suggestion. "-Very well. It is unlikely, in that I could vanish from his presence should I be brought before him. I was disoriented the first time, exhausted and drained. By the time I'd found my awareness once more, I'd been in Thanos' possession for Ymir knows how long. Such an event is not likely to occur again."

"And you have your magic now." Tony pointed out.

"Precisely."

For the next few moments, there remained only the sound of their breathing- Tony's a bit laboured- and their footfalls on the steps. Each time Stark glanced back to check up on his companion, Loki remained impassive. At first, he figured the way the god's eyebrows pulled together slightly was a trick of the light, but as they continued on, he noticed the expression becoming more pronounced. The trickster god seemed ill at ease, almost disturbed.

"Wait."

Tony might have wondered at the way his feet seemed to halt of their own accord, his instincts obeying Loki's hushed command immediately. He froze, remaining in the exact position he was in, only turning his head to look at the God of Fire for answers.

Loki's lips were pinched, and his gaze seemed far-off, the witchlight he'd been conjuring in his palm dissipating as if it had never been. He was still as a statue, the only movement from his person being the hand that raised to press against the wall, his eyes narrowing in focus.

"...how close are we to your generators, Stark?" he intoned, a hissed inquiry that sent chills up the genius's spine.

"About a dozen floors above, give or take."

Loki nodded, brows furrowing in concentration as he pressed his palm harder against the wall. For a moment, Tony wondered if the god might actually break the surface.

After several tense minutes of silence, Loki pulled his hand away, but his fingers remained spread- twitching as if a hairsbreadth away from wrapping around a person's throat.

He edged around Tony's frozen form, poised above the steps, and began to take the stairs two at a time.

"Proceed with caution," the god commanded. "Do not move ahead of me."

Stark's eyes widened briefly as he hastened to comply, feeling that arguing with the sorcerer would be very ill-advised at the moment.

_I wish my suit worked._

* * *

Thor paced tirelessly in front of the windows, fingers clenching and relaxing repeatedly around Mjölnir's handle and his other hand twitching around the witchlight Loki had given him. Steve noted the Thunderer's restlessness, feeling a sense of unease gripping him.

"I don't like it," Barton stated with a frown. "Letting Stark go off with Loki- alone. He can't protect himself, not with his suit out of commission."

Hogun frowned at the archer, giving him a narrow-eyed stare. Fandral cast an uneasy glance towards Thor, who hadn't appeared to have heard.

"Loki wouldn't hurt him," Natasha stated. "Stark's offered him and Thor sanctuary for- what, almost a month now? He wouldn't repay him by causing him harm out of our sight."

"It wouldn't be honorable," Sif agreed from her place at Sleipnir's side.

Barton snorted, muttering scathingly, "Right. And Loki's such a shining example of honor and integrity, isn't he?"

She sighed, sharing a pitying look with Fandral. "Friend, you do not know Loki as we do."

"I'm not your friend, buddy. And I think I got a pretty good look at Loki's character when he brainwashed me."

Sif and Hogun shared a pitying look, while Fandral continued to defend. "You do not understand. We have known Loki for millennia, and never has he failed to right the wrongs he has committed- intentionally or unintentionally."

Banner caught on. "And he's hurt people here. Even though it was to forward a greater plan, a defense against Thanos' schemes, he still feels responsible."

"He will not harm you," Hogun assured quietly. "Not when he feels there is a debt he has yet to pay, between himself and the mortals. You. Did you not wonder why he simply did not... vanish, the moment he had the strength to do so?"

Banner, Steve, and Natasha shared an uneasy look, and even Barton looked faintly unsure.

"What do you mean?" Rogers asked. "He can't do that, can he?"

Fandral shrugged. "Loki is able to vanish one moment and reappear in an entirely different location the next. I do not know the specifics... but it has always been something he was able to do, even weakened."

Thor continued to pace, but he interjected with a rumble. "Loki would have been able to leave the moment he removed his stitches and healed himself, taking myself with him as well. Even when we fled Asgard, weakened and exhausted as he was with but a fraction of his magic, he had been able to open a doorway to the hidden paths and direct us safely to Midgard. Yet he chose to remain here."

Natasha pursed her lips in thought, while Bruce voiced his confusion. "Why? For what purpose?"

Thor shrugged helplessly, "I know not. Perhaps he feels he owes your realms protection. You will not be safe from Thanos' wrath, or that of the dark elves, even if we were to leave and divert their attentions elsewhere. By remaining here, you are ensured a measure of defense against the armies who seek to invade and destroy the realms. An unusual sort of weregild, and yet..."

"Plausible," Sif agreed. "By defending your numbers against our opponents when they attack- for they surely will- he is paying a unique form of recompense for the lives that were taken during his invasion of Midgard."

"But it doesn't _work_ like that!" Barton exclaimed furiously. "He can't bring back the innocents that were lost and the people that were harmed no matter _what_ he does!"

Sif narrowed her eyes. Thor shook his head pityingly, but did not press. From behind Barton, Romanoff placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

"Even if that isn't the case, Loki's not about to hurt the one guy who's granted him sanctuary," Rogers added quietly. "I may not like the guy, but I do understand that he attacked Earth to, ultimately, defend it. He's not going to kill Stark, or get him killed, after everything he's done for him."

Thor nodded approvingly at Steve's defense of his brother. Barton scowled, but didn't press.

"I wonder when those flashlights are gonna get here," Bruce mumbled, looking towards the stairs. "No offense, but Loki's magical lights aren't exactly easy on the eyes."

A few offered a chuckle at that comment, but the atmosphere remained largely subdued as the group waited for their peers to return.

* * *

"What are these 'flashlights' we are locating?"

Pepper shared an amused grin with Jane, rifling through the shelves in one of Tony's storage closets at the back of his lab. "They create a beam of light that you can point wherever you need. They're not very big, probably the length of the handle on Thor's hammer."

Volstagg nodded, muttering an _"Ingenious..."_, shuffling about in a corner of the closet. He still wasn't really certain _what_ he should be searching for, but determined to be of assistance. He hefted his axe over one shoulder, tossing aside anything that did not match the vague description the ladies had given him.

"Are we even sure the flashlights will work?" Jane asked in concern, digging blindly in one corner as she squinted in the dim light Volstagg was providing and consequently upsetting every time he moved. "Our cells didn't."

"Well, there's not much else we can do at the moment that's useful," Pepper intoned with a frown, rather annoyed at her own helplessness. "If not, there's a candle-lighter in one of the kitchens, and possibly some matches in one of Tony's bars. Until Tony finds the problem with the power, we need to find another human-accessible alternative to Loki's light orbs."

"Hey, if worse comes to worse, Thor can always light things up with his lightning," Jane commented cheekily, pulling back with a crow of triumph. "Found one, and- oh. No batteries."

"What are batteries?" Volstagg asked, to Jane and Pepper's groans. "Perhaps I can help find- oh Ymir's stones!" he cursed, and Pepper turned around just in time to see Volstagg juggle frantically for the witchlight that was dropping to the floor and fading fast.

Jane gave a cry of warning, but it was no use as the light hit the ground and vanished, plunging the closet into complete, all-consuming darkness. They waited with bated breath, until Pepper whispered, "Can you hear that?"

"What is it?" Jane hissed, straining her ears to catch the sound Pepper had detected. After a brief moment, she heard it- footsteps, strangely muffled but still audible.

"My ladies," Volstagg grumbled, his voice wary and tense. "Hide yourselves. Immediately."

Pepper dived under a shelf while Jane secreted herself in the corner, listening in the darkness as Volstagg roared and swung his blade.

* * *

Loki, the long-legged bastard, was taking the steps three at a time, and Tony was stumbling to keep up. The closer they came to the power level, the faster the god moved, until he was sprinting down the steps. A floor away, the god's arms lit on fire, and Tony most certainly did _not_ scream in surprise. Loki burst through the door to the second floor of the basement, the metal crumpling inward under the force of the god's entry, and Tony found he had no breath to protest when the room beyond was bathed in flame.

_Holy shit._

He stood in the doorway, watching with wide eyes as great tempests of fire shot from the chaos god's fingertips, encasing what appeared to Tony as humanoid-shaped shadows. The Trickster's sudden offensive took his opponents off-guard - they had clearly not expected their ambush to fail so spectacularly.

The sickening stench of burning flesh filled his nostrils, and he raised his arm to cover his nose as the heat registered against his skin. It was like walking into an oven, a blistering hot wave of air and smoke that sent Tony reeling back. As suddenly as the fire had appeared, it was gone, and the only objects that had been damaged were the intruders- to Tony's surprise.

Without the flames to distort his vision, Stark could well and truly see the identity of the attackers. There were several dozen of them, excluding the ones that had already fallen to Loki's sorcery; Æsir-sized beings with pale skin and pointed ears. They wore dark armor and what looked like bone plating, white masks with hollow eyes covering many of their faces. They moved with fluidity, a deadly grace that seemed to nearly match Loki's.

They had strange weapons, firing powerful blasts towards the Trickster who deflected them with a swipe of his legs or even avoided them altogether. He repeatedly winked out of existence only to reappear behind his foes, sliding a knife through their backs or across their throats, only to blink himself into another area immediately after. Tony watched with slightly frightened awe as the God of Mayhem cast his hand towards the elves, twisting his fist as a resounding crack filled the room. One dark elf collapsed, his neck turned at an unnatural angle, and Tony was torn between cheering and being nauseated.

Two elves in particular had abandoned their weapons and were fighting from afar with sorcery of their own- black, writhing tendrils of energy that shot towards the Trickster. He avoided most of them easily, twisting fluidly and teleporting to dodge the spells, but one made it past his defenses. Loki's jaw was tense but he did not otherwise outwardly react, throwing two wickedly sharp knives through the eye holes in the mask of the elf on the left while he slaughtered several others.

Tony's eyes widened as he noticed three enemies coming towards him, spotting him in the doorway. He spared a moment to curse his stupidity, and made to flee when a form materialized in front of him.

Now there were two Loki's, the original in the center of the fray, fighting off the majority while his doppelganger stood in front of Tony, brandishing six throwing knives- three in each hand- and a wicked glare. He cut through the approaching elves in a lithe frenzy, ensuring no blasts from their weaponry or stray spells could reach the engineer.

A dozen dark elves remained, fighting twice as hard now that they realized the imminence of their defeat. They assaulted the original Loki desperately, and Tony had to admire the way the god held his own. He moved like a shadow, twisting and bending and balancing in impossible ways while he dodged and struck, aiming to kill.

His doppelganger had joined the fight, with the threats to Tony's safety eliminated, and Loki and his copy made short work of the bunch. His clone used knives, moving too quickly for Tony's eyes to track as he sliced and maimed and eviscerated their foes. The real Loki breathed fire into their faces and sent oily black tendrils of magic through their armor that had the elves choking on their own blood and screaming as their inner organs melted. Tony swallowed down bile as he noted a suspicious substance dripping from one elf's ears and nose as it collapsed.

All too soon- or perhaps not soon enough- the fight was finished. Loki's clone disappeared as if it never was, while the god stood in the middle of a pile of bodies, bathed in the blood of the corpses surrounding him. He was breathing heavily, eyes alight with adrenaline and magic. He took one step towards Tony, and another, before stumbling. Ignoring the bodies on his floor, Tony stepped towards the god as quickly as he could, holding him by the shoulder to keep him from collapsing completely.

Loki offered a breathy chuckle, one hand gripping Tony's wrist in acknowledgment of his support, appearing almost dazed as he half-knelt on the bloodied floor.

"Perhaps," he whispered, so quietly that Stark had to strain to hear him. "I have not recovered as far as I had previously thought... hah..."

Tony held back a curse, draping one of the god's arms around his shoulders. "The generators can wait, you need medical attention-"

"The dökkálfar destroyed them," Loki intoned breathlessly, motioning vaguely behind him. "At least, I assume the large pile of scrap back there used to be the generators you spoke of."

He didn't look back to check, knowing instinctively that the god was correct. "Think you can stand? You Asgardians are really heavy-" he grunted, trying to lift Loki to his feet. "We're not going to make it up ninety flights of stairs like this."

Loki smiled, licking the perspiration that had fallen to his lips. He was cold, Tony noted. He could feel the chill through the god's leather.

"Allow me a moment of respite- I will bring us to the balcony floor in a minute." The engineer wasn't sure if it was a suggestion, a demand, or a plead, but he acquiesced nonetheless.

"Shit, this is a mess," he groaned, allowing Loki to sink back to the ground. "How did they get into the tower?"

The God of Fire swallowed, offering a tired shrug. He didn't seem to be bothered by the bodies that surrounded them, or surprised. Tony wondered if that came from centuries of battle experience.

"They are able to cloak themselves from your mechanical eyes, much as I am able to. They cannot do much more than that, by way of invisibility- if the storm had not been here, Heimdall would have surely seen them."

"How did _you_ know they were here?" Tony asked in bafflement. "You looked like you already knew about ten floors up."

"I suspected," Loki corrected tiredly. "I could sense a disturbance, and the closer we approached this floor the stronger it grew. Magic is an entirely separate sense in itself, Stark. I can use it just as effectively as sight, or touch, or smell. I've dealt with the dökkálfar in the past, and I have had a taste of their magical signature. They can cloak themselves, but not from me. I identified the disturbance in magic before I opened that door."

_Destroyed_, Tony wanted to say, but decided that it might not be the wisest idea.

"You defended me," he pointed out, still a bit surprised by that fact. "Saved me."

Loki cast Tony a glance, his lips twisting briefly in what might have been amusement, or bitterness. "I did. Is it truly so shocking?"

The genius shrugged, "Well, you did throw me out a window."

The god looked like he wished to roll his eyes, still glowing faintly with an eery light. "You offered your home and your trust to me when I did nothing to deserve it. I owe you a debt, Stark. I will not allow you to be killed before I can repay it."

Tony's eyebrows raised, but he didn't comment further, simply nodding in acceptance of Loki's words.

The God of Mischief moved to raise himself to his feet, but couldn't quite manage more than a kneel. "We will have to travel like this. I... apologize, for the mess," he added, glancing around them.

"Hey, at least you didn't break anything. Except the door. I'm actually surprised none of your fire burned my building," Stark expressed, moving to kneel as well. "What do I do?"

"Simply grasp my shoulder," he ordered. When Stark complied, Loki summoned his magic, and transported them to the floor where the Avengers waited.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the wait! The next chapter is already half-way written, I'll be posting that tomorrow. **

**I'm going off the character models for the dark elves shown in _Thor: The Dark World_. Their mannerisms and whatnot will probably be different from the movie, however, as I have not seen it. **

**Just to be clear: Loki is the/a god of fire in Norse Mythology, Jötunn heritage aside. Some people are not aware of that fact, so I thought I'd clarify.**

**Review, lovely readers!**


	25. Chapter Twenty-Four

**DISCLAIMER****: I do not own Thor, or any characters/situations within. No money is being made from the fan-written work of fiction.**

**Warnings****: Violence.  
**

* * *

Tony had expected pain, or perhaps an uncomfortable amount of pressure, but he only felt a strange, perplexing sort of sensation akin to pins and needles. Their environment switched seamlessly, or it would have appeared that way if Tony had been looking, the displacement of air the only real change he felt in their surroundings until he opened his eyes to glance around.

Startled exclamations and a whinny of distress from Sleipnir accompanied their appearance. Loki remained kneeling on the floor, appearing slightly winded and pained- though by what, Stark wasn't certain- as Thor rushed to the god's side. Heedless of the Trickster's protests or the blood coating his leathers, the thunder god began inspecting Loki for injuries after handing his witchlight to Sif.

Bruce did much the same for Tony, ignoring the engineers shooing motions and assurances that he was _fine, already!_ Steve immediately began to interrogate the genius, questioning him relentlessly.

Hogun and Fandral leaped to their feet at Loki and Tony's appearance, rushing towards the mischief god. Loki looked rather baffled at the attention, and frustrated with his weakness. He batted Thor's hands away uselessly, hissing in irritation.

"Cease your invasive ministrations, Thor! If you truly wish to be of assistance then aid me in standing-"

The Thunderer rushed to comply, giving an abashed nod as he gripped Loki's forearms and lifted him easily to his feet. The Trickster swayed precariously for a moment, masking the movement by leaning heavily against Thor's firm weight. Fandral and Hogun crowded around the younger prince, nearly blocking him from view of the other mortals.

"What has happened, brother?" Thor rumbled in a worried voice, his words falling easily into the old tongue in his concern. He allowed the Trickster to lean on him without protest. "What ails you?"

Natasha shot the gods a narrow-eyed look, unable to understand them as Loki replied. Sif remained at Sleipnir's side, calming him while she listened.

"I have been cursed," the sorcerer intoned bluntly, Fandral sucking in a sharp breath.

"What will it do to you?" the swordsman inquired uneasily. "Is it able to spread?"

"No," Loki assured wearily. "It is a plug on my connection to the seiðr of Yggdrasil. It will expand slowly, removing my access to magic- painfully- over time. If I use any seiðr, even a simple cantrip, I will expedite the effects of the curse. Simply maintaining the illusions on my appearance are hastening the symptoms."

"Then remove them, brother!" Thor cried. "You will not be showing your heritage- you've transformed into an Æsir, not disguised yourself as one."

Loki complied after a moment's hesitation, and considered himself grateful that all the warriors did was blink in surprise.

Hogun gave the Trickster a suspicious look. "How is it you know of the nature of this curse?"

The god grinned, wolfishly. "I invented it. I know not how the dökkálfar learned to wield the curse, but I suspect Thanos was involved. He took great entertainment in poking around my mind when he found me, and in light of his current alliance with Malekith..."

"Is there a way to work around it?" Fandral inquired.

"Perhaps." Loki answered succinctly, offering no further explanation.

Thor swallowed, looking both uneasy and furious. "Who gave you this curse brother? Tell me- I shall seek the foul elf out and-"

"It is dead. Several dozen dökkálfar were waiting to ambush Stark and myself in the basement levels. I slaughtered them, but I was not quick enough to avoid their magic."

"How did they get here?" Hogun asked angrily, looking far more grim than usual.

Loki raised an eyebrow, sighing as he answered in the All-Tongue, for the mortals' benefit now that they were no longer speaking of Loki's ailment. "The _shadows_. Given a sufficient area of darkness, a dark elf who is suitably gifted in the ways of seiðr can travel through the shadows a great distance. A powerful one can transport several dökkálfar using this skill, and given a sufficient area of darkness, dozens, hundreds, even, can be sent through. Honestly, you have _fought_ the dökkálfar before, all of you."

"We do not know the mechanics of their magic as you do," Thor placated, observing with some disappointment as Loki pulled away to stand on his own power.

"That's what the black out was for," Tony realized, having heard the Trickster's explanation. "To give them a lot of darkness to move through."

Loki nodded in agreement, "Precisely. The storm additionally aids them in this endeavor- blocking your sun's rays from shining on your planet. With the absence of your electrical lights, there is no telling how many dökkálfar are swarming within this city- perhaps beyond."

The Avengers traded alarmed glances.

"We need to investigate, make sure that the civilians are safe. We'll set up a perimeter, and-"

"Uh, Cap?" Tony raised his eyebrows. "How do you think we're gonna be able to move around without light?"

Steve looked perplexed as he considered the question. From beside Sleipnir, Sif gave a huff of annoyance. "You mortals are so dependent upon your strange technologies. Do you not have torches? Candles and lanterns to wield?"

"Flares, I guess. But those have a short lifespan, and there are none in my tower. We have flashlights?" he made it sound like a question.

"I thought Lady Pepper, Volstagg, and Lady Jane were retrieving those," Sif observed with a frown. "Should they not have returned by now?"

Loki and Thor shared a dark look that did not go unnoticed by the others. Fandral drew his sword.

"Reconnaissance mission?" he inquired with a grin. The Æsir nodded.

"I'm going too," Steve said. Natasha stepped forward as well. "Barton, Stark, and Banner, you wait here for further orders."

"I shall remain as well," Loki told the group, grimacing in anticipation. "and send a doppelganger with you, to provide light. I must ward your tower from further ambush, and it is best to begin from the top."

Thor looked like he would protest, but the trickster cut him off with a sharp gesture, speaking again in the old tongue. "I cannot avoid magic completely, Thor." He spoke once again in the All-Tongue. "Go rescue your maiden. Volstagg is an accomplished warrior, but even he cannot see in the dark. Go- and for pity's sake try not to get cursed."

The Thunderer frowned, but realized that to argue meant wasting time that could be used to protect Jane and Pepper. Loki tensed, jaw gritted as he summoned a clone, holding aloft two strong witchlights. Thor, Steve, Fandral, and Natasha left the room at a run, followed by the dark-haired god's copy.

Loki licked his scarred lips, looking towards the remaining two Asgardian warriors. "Lady Sif, with me. Hogun, remain by the mortals' sides should there be an attack. We will be on the roof."

Sleipnir gave a snort of distress, and Loki moved to card his fingers through the stallion's mane briefly.

"Do not fret, I will return soon."

To the remaining Avengers' surprise, the horse gave a nod and Loki pulled away, offering Sif his hand. She took it without hesitation, and the pair vanished to the rooftop of Stark's tower.

* * *

They heard the clanging of steel and Volstagg's furious roars outside the floor of Stark's personal lab, and Thor did not hesitate to charge inside, the others on his heels. Loki's clone entered behind the Thunderer, moving to a corner where he held the bright lights steady for the other warriors to see by.

A dozen dark elves, not counting the ones already deceased on the floor, were fighting the rotund warrior in a frenzy. Volstagg was holding his own, but barely, though he took advantage of the light as his swings became less random and more aimed, now able to target his enemies and focus on their moving forms. The other warriors leaped into the fray, and Thor took out three elves with one arcing blow of Mjölnir, his braid swinging wildly.

The Captain was going back-to-back with the bearded, axe-wielding warrior, blocking both spells and attacks with his shield. Natasha was shooting their opponents as she dodged and ducked to avoid incoming blasts, and Fandral was easily skewering the dökkálfar with his sword.

It ended within moments, and Thor spared a moment to ensure his friend was not in peril before rushing into the open storage closet, catching the light Loki's clone tossed to him as he went. The Thunderer found Jane and Pepper huddled together in the corner, tucked beneath the shelves, and he bent down to face them.

"Are you harmed?" he inquired immediately, offering a hand to help each woman stand. Naked relief shone on Jane's face, and she pulled Thor into an embrace as soon as she got to her feet.

"We're fine," Jane assured, glancing out of the closet. "What about-?"

"Volstagg has only suffered a few minor injuries. He will be well."

She nodded, pulling back. Pepper looked worried. "Did Tony and Loki get back? The lights didn't come on..."

"There were dökkálfar waiting in ambush, Lady Potts. Friend Anthony was not harmed, my brother protected him."

Pepper only looked slightly relieved. "What about Loki?"

Thor grimaced. "He-"

"Thor! We're heading back upstairs!" Steve called.

The Thunderer gave the two women an apologetic glance. "Come, we should follow. I think, in light of present circumstances, it would be best to stay together."

Jane and Pepper shared a worried look but nodded in their agreement, following the muscular god out of the lab.

* * *

Sif stepped away from the Trickster when they reappeared on the roof, giving the God of Mischief room to work. She immediately drew her dual-bladed sword, standing sentinel as Loki sent a witchlight to hover above them.

He lowered himself to one knee, placing his palms flat against the gravelly ground, a few yards away from the spot the Tesseract had been positioned during the battle a year ago. Under the watchful eyes of the Goddess of War, he centered himself, eyelids lowering halfway as he began to murmur with his silver tongue.

The language was not one Sif was familiar with, and she found her gaze drawn to the gravel between Loki's splayed fingers. An invisible hand was drawing lines in the grit- large, archaic symbols that seemed to burn faintly with ghostly, half-transparent plumes of smoke rising from the runes. The bitter, metallic tang of magic filled the air, and her nostrils flared at the unnatural scent.

The runes were mostly unfamiliar, but she understood a few of them. Sif noted Protection and Intrusion, and what appeared to be Shade or perhaps Darkness, written backwards and wrong-side up. The rest was incomprehensible to her, but she dared not interrupt the seiðmaðr to ask. Sif observed as Loki's mutterings took on a strange echo, the flaming lines drawn into the gravel pulsing with every syllable he intoned.

From what little she learned of seiðr, she understood that the runes were only as powerful as the sorcerer binding them. She- or he, in Loki's case- could spell the runes to remain in a fixed state, drawing on their own power until they weakened and expired. Or else, the mage could anchor the runes directly to their person, expending a finite amount of their seiðr to constantly replenish the power of the runes. They could anchor them to another as well, though such a practice was considered wicked, for the victim of the anchoring could perish if they did not have enough power to appease the runes.

Some seiðmaðr, if they were powerful enough, didn't even require runes or words to cast. Loki was one such example, loathe as she was to admit it, and she recalled hearing him confess, many centuries prior, that the only reason he would use them would be to center his concentration if he was in pain or otherwise distracted. She wondered which was more likely in this situation, for Loki's face was impassive and gave her no indication.

Several minutes passed, silent save for the kneeling god's hushed words of power. She gave their surroundings a cursory check every once in a while, her senses sharp for anything amiss. Her eyes fell once more upon Loki's form, and she noticed with some alarm that he was hunched further over the runes and trembling. There was no change in the smooth, lilting tones falling from his lips, but every muscle in his body was tensed with pain. She recalled his words from before, explaining the curse the foul dökkálfr had graced him with.

_"If I use any seiðr, even a simple cantrip, I will expedite the effects of the curse."_

She did not dare ask if he was alright, for fear that she would ruin his concentration. A part of Sif wondered if Loki would even hear her- in the harsh glare cast by his witchlight, she noticed the way the Trickster's half-opened eyes were glazed and unfocused, his concentration centered entirely upon his task and the agony it caused him. As the goddess looked into the black clouds above them, shivering unconsciously, she hoped Loki would finish soon.

* * *

"Geez, it's freezing."

Immediately upon seeing Pepper, Tony had latched his arms around her and refused to let go. Everyone, bar Loki and Sif, was gathered around the cold fireplace in close quarters. Volstagg was using a healing stone to try and strike a spark from his axe blade, in the hopes that it would catch on the ornamental arrangement of lumber in the hearth.

"How did it grow to become so cold so quickly, friend Anthony?" Thor asked in confusion, wrapping Jane in his cape. She shivered, casting the Thunderer a grateful smile.

Tony idly scratched his beard. "Uhm... there's no electricity to regulate the temperature inside the tower, so the air inside is slowly falling to the temperature outside. Get me?"

Thor nodded as Fandral dropped his own dark cloak over Sleipnir's back. The Avengers noticed how the warriors weren't shivering the littlest bit, and the way the Asgardians kept casting glances to the ceiling, as if trying to see through to the roof where Sif and Loki were standing. Volstagg allowed his axe to drop with a huff, putting the healing stone back in the pouch at his side.

"I give up," he declared in despair. "I've got no flint here. We shall simply have to w-"

He jumped in surprise as the fireplace lit with an inexplicable blaze of flame, hot and welcome in the chill of the room. Eyes looked around in shock as lights came on, shining with a brightness that far surpassed their usual output. Jane stood, still wrapped in Thor's thick cape, and held her hand close to one of the fixtures in the wall.

"It's warm!" she exclaimed, squinting in the light. "Like fire..."

Tony stared around in bafflement. "But the power isn't working. Jarv? Jarvis?"

The stairwell lit up with the bright, warm light that filled the room they stood in, far surpassing the harsh intensity of the witchlights that Loki had left in the stairwell before. Corners of the room that were out of the reach of the light seemed suddenly illuminated with no apparent source- even the inch of space beneath the seats and the lights in the floor of the balcony outside. By the end of it, there was no shadows to be seen in the surroundings, other than the ones made by folds of clothing and armor.

Several pairs of eyes blinked suddenly against the unexpected light, eyes watering as they grew accustomed to it. The air seemed to grow steadily warmer, though not uncomfortably so. Volstagg and Fandral shared an exultant cry, prompting small, amused smiles from a few of the others.

"He's done it! Hah!"

Thor smiled at his friend's exuberance, standing to go to the balcony, momentarily allowing a blast of chilly air into the large room before he closed the glass behind him. Looking up, he could see the edge of the roof, but no sign of his brother or Sif.

Twirling Mjölnir, the thunder god flew to the ledge, landing heavily on the gravel. His smile faded as he noted the way Loki was hunched over, violent tremors of pain wracking his brother's frame. He made to move towards him, but Sif placed a halting hand on his shoulder.

"Wait."

Thor looked briefly affronted, swallowing his ire as he looked to Sif for answers. "What is it? Has he spoken?"

"He said to wait," she repeated firmly, giving Thor an equally stern gaze. She glanced back towards the kneeling prince momentarily, runes pulsing like a heartbeat beneath him. "I'm certain he will explain when he is finished, ah..." Loki retched, eyes shut tightly as he raised a halting hand to Thor when the Thunderer made to push past Sif again.

The wait was agony for Thor, his eyes never leaving his brother's form. Loki occasionally heaved, but nothing came up save for oily tendrils of magic, falling from his lips to the runes beneath him. Thor did not understand what was taking place, the concern on his features plain. It appeared, to the god's untrained eye, that the lines in the gravel were actually _drawing_ the wisps from inside the trickster, causing his dry retching.

Finally, _finally_ it was finished, and Loki leaned back to sit on his heels with a shaky sigh. The runes beneath him ceased glowing, and the lines in the gravel disappeared to leave an unblemished face in the dirt. Thor took that as his signal to approach.

"Brother, are you well?" he inquired apprehensively, kneeling beside the Trickster.

Loki offered a small nod, giving a raspy chuckle- the kind Thor had come to associate with times the god was in pain. "I had to work... around the curse. Do not... concern yourself."

Frowning, Thor made to protest. "Brother-"

"It is nothing of great import, Thor. The wards will siphon the curse from my system as replenishment. I required a moment to adjust, that is all."

The Thunderer still looked uneasy, but accepted Loki's explanation. "Can you stand, or shall I help you?"

Loki batted Thor's hands away when they moved to grip his arms, standing on his own with minimal unsteadiness. Rather than being upset by his brother's actions, Thor simply grinned.

"Now, shall we enter the tower? It is getting rather cold," Thor suggested, rolling his shoulders to hide a shiver. He glanced over to see Sif raising her hand in bafflement.

"It's snowing..." she frowned, watching a flake fall into her palm. Her eyes glances towards Loki. "Is it not supposed to be summer here on Midgard?"

They looked into the dark clouds, seeing flurries falling from the sky, unnaturally cold and large.

"...Perhaps we ought to retreat inside."

* * *

**A/N: *evil grin* You guys have no idea how excited I am for the next few chapters.  
**

**I'm taking creative liberties with magic and runes and whatnot. Hopefully that doesn't offend anyone.  
**

**Also, I have a rotten cold at the moment, and my muse always suffers when I'm sick. The next chapters might be a few days late, so I apologize!**

**Review?**


End file.
